Fallout: The Wanderer
by Sonatore
Summary: The story of that crazy kid from Vault 101 in the Capital Wasteland.
1. Prologue

A small radio's lights flicker on and a sound sputters from its dusty speakers… a guitar, plucked slowly.  
>And a voice.<br>_I don't want to set the woooorld ooonnn fireeeeee…. I just want to staaaaart… a flame in your heaaart.  
><em>The radio sounds tinny in the travel bus, like a relic trying to speak through time. The small bobbly hula girl is still… and has been for many years, never shifting on the bus' dashboard. Her unblinking eyes covered in a film of dust, her undaunted smile beaming from underneath the grey.  
><em>In my heart I have but onnnnne deeeeesireeeeeee…. And that one is yoouuuuu…. No other will dooooo.<br>_The voice, brave and sad, serenades the hula girl and echoes out into the world around the bus… the bus which stands atop a pile of concrete rubble… the bus whose back half has been torn away, exposing the unafraid hula girl to a graveyard, whose tombstones are immense sky scrapers, their windows broken and their doors unhinged. They rise from the grey boulders that cover what were once streets and footpaths like teeth from a decayed mouth, jutting out at odd angles, some a mere shift in weight away from total collapse, their iron beams groaning in the wind.  
><em>I've lost all ambition, all worldly acclaim. I just want to be the one you love.<br>And with your admission, that you feel the same,  
>I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of, believe me<em>  
>But still the voice serenades the hula girl and still she smiles, both of them unaware of the dim explosions in the air and gun shots which ring out occasionally… or the occasional scream.<br>However the voice does not get far from the bus before the wind whips it away down the street, twisting its musical notes into the moans of forgotten ghosts tumbling down the streets like spectral tumbleweeds.  
><em>I don't want to…<br>_One figure watches the bus, the hula girl, the radio… a faceless figure clad in grey and dented armour, wearing a mask with large eyes and a vent for a mouth. A figure clutching a weapon with both its metal clad hands, wary of the dangers present in the ruined capital city.  
>Washington DC is not what it was 200 years ago.<br>War ravaged it… and ravages it still.  
>Because war… war never changes.<p> 


	2. Chapter 1

1.

The Vault.

No one enters.

No one leaves.

Vault 101.

'_James… James something's happening… James I feel… I…'_

'_CATHERINE!'_

Tom's eyes shot open as his dream melted into reality.

"Thomas, wake up!"

Tom was looking up into the slightly amused eyes of his father as he shook him awake.

"Of all the days, you choose today to sleep in."

Tom rolled over, batting his father's hand away, "What, what is it? Did the radroaches get in again?"

"Worse."

"What?"

"The G.O.A.T. is on today."

And suddenly everything came rushing back to Tom as he realised what his father was talking about.

"No! No G.O.A.T. I refuse to partake in the G.O.A.T."

"If you want to continue living in this vault then you have to, Tom," his father said, scratching absently at his stubbly chin.

"What if I don't want to live in the vault?"

His father stopped scratching and looked at him. Tom got the distinct feeling that the time for jokes was over.

"Never joke about that son. We have a good life in here. Now get up and get ready. You've got a G.O.A.T. to take."

Tom stumbled out of the room block he shared with his father and into the hallway. The vault was an underground dwelling which housed several hundred people. All the lights were harsh fluorescents and the walls were reinforced. The doors were hydraulically powered and slid up either automatically or after entering a code into a keypad next to it, depending on the room. There was a constant humming sound from the ventilators as they recycled the air.

Still zipping up his light blue jumpsuit and with a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth, Tom stumbled down the hallway, ignoring the metal echo of his footsteps. As he swallowed the last of the toast he turned a corner and bumped into somebody.

"Woah, where's the fire?"

Tom looked up at the smiling spectacled face of Doctor Jonas Palmer, his father's assistant and closest friend.

Choking on toast and tears in his eyes Tom sputtered out an apology, "Jonas… sorry!"

Jonas laughed and clapped him on the back as he forced the partly chewed toast down his throat, leaving a trail of pain behind, "Easy there buddy. Wouldn't do too good for your dad's reputation if you died from choking. That's no way for a doctor's kid to go."

Finally Tom heaved in a breath and muttered back, "Yeah, never mind my being dead. That's an easily fixed problem isn't it?"

Jonas laughed, "Walking and chewing… why the dare devil antics this morning Tom?"

"Today's the G.O.A.T. exam. Apparently it's a big deal."

"It's as useful as you let it be, Tom. Now get moving. Don't be late for your G.O.A.T.!"

Tom smiled, "Perish the thought. Wish me luck Jonas."

"Good luck!"

Soon Tom was walking briskly down the corridors again, dodging by people and being very careful not to bump into any more people. As he walked he looked down at the bulky device wrapped around his left wrist, a screen secured with metal bands with several dials and buttons below it.

Every vault dweller was given a Pip-Boy 3000 at the age of ten, as a rite of passage. Tom was, in fact, given a 3000A model, which was fixed up by the vault technician, Stanley Armstrong. Though it was a little outdated it was supposed to be much more reliable and Tom had never had any trouble with it, though he had been advised not to try and take it off unless with the help of a technician… Stanley claimed to have seen many messes as a result of such attempts.

"Get _off _me Butch. I mean it, if you touch me again I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Tom heard Amata's voice and Butch's name and knew there was trouble. He turned the corner and saw Butch and his two cronies surrounding Amata. Butch was grabbing at her.

"Oh I'm shaking in my boots!" he said, following up with a dumb chortle echoed by his friends. The three of them made up a 'gang' called The Tunnel Snakes. They all wore leather jackets with a green snake on the back.

Amata, on the other hand, was the Overseer's daughter, the Overseer being the leader of the vault. She had been raised to be strong and Tom felt a need to step in before her attitude got her in serious trouble.

Butch got too close and Amata's hand cracked across his face and Tom's plan went out the window. Butch growled and stepped forward, pulling his own hand back.

Tom pushed past the other two and caught Butch's wrist and looked into his eyes, trying not to laugh at his black, oil slicked hair, "That's not a good idea Butch. Overseer's daughter and all…"

Butch pushed Tom off, "We ain't scared of no Overseer. We're the Tunnel Snakes. The baddest gang in the vault!"

"We really don't have time for this pissing contest," Tom muttered, "Now I'll punch you if I have to and make you the most bruised gang in the vault but I really don't think you're worth the time."

For a moment he stared into Butch's broad stupid face. Finally Butch broke, "This ain't over. C'mon guys." The three pushed past Amata and Tom and strode off into the opposite direction of the classroom.

"I was totally handling those jerks," Amata's voice piped up.

Tom turned, smiling, "I know you were, but I wouldn't want you to be late to the oh-so-fun G.O.A.T."

Amata smiled back. Her eyes were hazel and her black hair was tied back in a short ponytail. They walked together down the corridor towards the classroom.

The classroom was small, with room for maybe thirty students. Only half of these seats were occupied. Standing at the front of the class was Mr. Brotch… or Edwin Brotch as his students would be allowed to call him at the end of the exam. He was a tall man with a buzz cut and severe eyes… though his mouth seemed permanently curved in sly amusement.

"Now that everyone has managed to find the classroom we can finally get started." He stepped forward and switched on the projector at the front of the classroom. Tom, sitting in the front right seat of the classroom was able to see the board with no problem as the room was filled with yellowed light.

The Vault Boy, a mascot for the vaults, was projected onto the screen, riding a bucking goat. The Vault Boy was a cheery looking young man in a vault jumpsuit and with short blonde locks. Above the picture was the acronym, 'G.O.A.T.' and below them were the words, 'Generalised Occupational Aptitude Test.'

Brotch repeated the bottom words and then said, "Now answer these questions seriously, because you don't want to know what happens to people who fail the G.O.A.T. No talking and keep your eyes to yourself. This means you Butch."

Butch opened his mouth to protest and Brotch shot him a warning look. He closed his mouth and picked up his pencil.

Brotch changed the slide.

A picture of a mad scientist clutching a strange device standing next to the Vault Boy covered the screen. Brotch read the question below: "Question One: You are approached by a frenzied Vault scientist, who yells, 'I'm going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!' What's your response?

1. 'But doctor, wouldn't that cause a parabolic destabilization of the fission singularity?'

2. 'Yeah? Up yours too, buddy!'

3. Say nothing, grab a nearby pipe and hit the scientist in the head to knock him out. For all you knew, he was planning to blow up the vault.

4. Say nothing, but slip away before the scientist can continue his rant."

Tom peered down at the bizarre question for a moment before scribbling his answer.

Brotch changed the slide and a naked and worried Vault Boy sitting on a doctor's examination table appeared, with what looked like a huge fungus growing on his leg and a doctor examining him.

"Question Two: While working as an intern in the Clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?

1. Amputate the foot before the infection spreads.

2. Scream for help.

3. Medicate the infected area to the best of your abilities.

4. Restrain the patient, and merely observe as the infection spreads."

_Scribble, scribble, scribble…_

The third questions picture was of a Vault Boy standing over a small scared boy in a corner.

"Question Three: You discover a young boy lost in the lower levels of the Vault. He's hungry and frightened, but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do?

1. Give the boy a hug and tell him everything will be OK.

2. Confiscate the property by force, and leave him there as punishment.

3. Pick the boy's pocket to take the stolen property for yourself, and leave the boy to his fate.

4. Lead the boy to safety, then turn him over to the overseer."

_Scribble, scribble, scribble…_

The next picture was of different Vault Boys playing the different positions mentioned in the question.

"Question Four: Congratulations! You made one of the Vault 101 baseball teams! Which position do you prefer?

1. Pitcher.

2. Catcher.

3. Designated Hitter.

4. None, you wish the vault had a soccer team."

_Scribble…_

The next was of an old lady holding a revolver out to the Vault Boy, and a speech bubble above her containing a picture of the Vault Boy blowing somebody away with the revolver.

"Question Five: Your grandmother invites you to tea, but you're surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill another Vault resident. What do you do?

1. Obey your elder and kill the Vault resident with the pistol.

2. Offer your most prized possession for the resident's life.

3. Ask granny for a mini-gun instead. After all, you don't want to miss.

4. Throw your tea in granny's face."

_Scribble… _Tom's hand was starting to feel sore and the bizarre questions were beginning to weird him out.

The following picture seemed to be of an old man in a wheel chair behind a locked door with the Vault Boy on the other side considering what to do.

"Question Six: Old Mr. Abernathy has locked himself in his quarters again, and you've been ordered to get him out. How do you proceed?

1. Use a bobby pin to pick the lock on the door.

2. Trade a Vault hoodlum for his cherry bomb and blow open the lock.

3. Go to the armory, retrieve a laser pistol, and blow the lock off.

4. Just walk away and let the old coot rot."

_Scribble, scribble…_

The next contained two spilled drums of radio-active waste in the background and the Vault Boy in the foreground, looking very worried with a third arm growing from his stomach.

"Question Seven: Oh, no! You've been exposed to radiation, and a mutated hand has grown out of your stomach! What's the best course of treatment?

1. A bullet to the brain.

2. Large doses of anti-mutagen agent.

3. Prayer. Maybe God will spare you in exchange for a life of pious devotion.

4. Removal of the mutated tissue with a precision laser."

_Scribble, scribble…_

The eighth question's picture was split into two. On the left was a Vault Boy reading a comic book in his living room and the one on the right was another Vault Boy lying down and imagining the comic book.

"Question Eight: A fellow Vault 101 resident is in possession of a Grognak the Barbarian comic book, issue number 1. You want it. What's the best way to obtain it?

1. Trade the comic book for one of your own valuable possessions.

2. Steal the comic book at gunpoint.

3. Sneak into the resident's quarters, and steal the comic book from his desk.

4. Slip some knock out drops into the resident's Nuka-Cola, and take the comic book when he's unconscious."

_Scribble… scratch, scratch, scratch… scribble…_

The next was of an older man with glasses walking away from a bathroom. Hiding around the corner is the Vault Boy.

"Question Nine: You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and...

1. Loosen some bolts on some pipes. When the sink is turned on, the room will flood.

2. Put a firecracker in the toilet. That's sure to cause some chaos.

3. Break into the locked medicine cabinet and replace his high blood pressure medication with sugar pills.

4. Manipulate the power wattage on his razor, so he'll get an electric shock next time he shaves."

Hasty scribbles followed by a few small giggles.

The final picture was of one Vault Boy holding an atom on his shoulders with the words 'Vault 101' on it and with several others bowing to him.

Brotch sighed and read out the last question, "Question Ten: Who is indisputably the most important person in Vault 101: He who shelters us from the harshness of the atomic wasteland, and to whom we owe everything we have, including our lives?

1. The Overseer.

2. The Overseer.

3. The Overseer.

4. The Overseer."

There was a long pause as people wondered at the extremely bizarre nature of this final question and then finally guessed which option would be the most viable.

The projector was switched off and the lights switched back on as Brotch started speaking again, "Pencils down. That's the end of the test guys. That wasn't so bad was it? Leave your papers on my desk and I'll calculate your results and get back to you in an hour."

Chairs groaned across the floor as every student simultaneously rose and crowded around Brotch's desk, clamouring to get rid of their papers.

Finally Amata and Tom were out of the classroom and heading to the cafeteria to get a drink.

The cafeteria was a small (and often crowded) room with a broken jukebox and red seats with tables in the middle. Working at the bar was a machine known as a Mister Handy. The Mister Handy machine was a floating spherical middle with three long arms and three eyes on stalks. The Mister Handy in Vault 101 was known as Andy, and was one of the domestic models. Tom had fond memories of him taking a buzz saw to his cake on his tenth birthday and accidentally destroying it. From then on Andy would always acknowledge Tom by saying, "I am mortified by the cake mishap. Simply mortified," even now, six years later.

Tom sat down at the table Amata had held for them, sitting across from her and handing sliding her glass of Nuka-Cola over to her.

"Thanks," she said and took a long sip, "God I needed that. Do you ever wonder how they keep making this stuff down here?"

Tom finished his sip, nodding, "I do and I have in fact drawn to a conclusion."

"What's that?"  
>"We probably don't want to know."<p>

Amata laughed and took another, slightly more tentative, sip.

"Congratulations you two."  
>Amata and Tom both looked up at the man who had spoken to them. It was Officer Gomez, one of the vault's security guards. He was a clean cut man who looked almost uncomfortable in his security uniform, with its buckles and police baton at his side, but he was definitely one of the more honest people in the vault. He looked down at the two of them, smiling, "You've completed the dreaded G.O.A.T. Did you go with the firecracker or loosening the pipes!" he laughed and Tom and Amata joined him.<p>

They continued to chat with him for a few minutes before he went back onto his rounds.

Around forty-five minutes later both Amata and Tom's Pip-Boys started beeping, telling them it was time to get back to the classroom and find out their results.


	3. Chapter 2

2.

The students lined up outside of the classroom as they waited for their results and Brotch called them each in individually.

As they stood together Tom thought about the first memory he had of Amata. They had been very young, something like four years old. He remembered the two of them sitting next to each other in craft class. She had no glue and he let her use his. They decided they should be friends and never looked back…

A simple memory, but a precious one just the same.

"A _hairdresser_! Are you _kidding me_!" Suddenly Butch stormed out of the classroom, tearing up a piece of paper which Tom assumed was his results. He and Amata shared a quick laugh before he entered the classroom.

Brotch's desk was in the front left corner of the room and Tom walked straight over to it and sat down as Brotch asked.  
>Brotch spent a moment shifting through papers, "Williams… Williams… Ah! Here we go, Thomas Williams. Wow. Wow. Says here you're going to be the vault's Marriage Counselor. Almost makes me want to get married, just to be able to avail myself of your services." He looked up at Tom, smiling.<p>

Tom was less than impressed with the result, "Marriage counselor, really? Please tell me you're kidding."

For a moment Brotch considered him… then sighed and let his head drop for a second. He looked back up and a new expression was on his face… the face of a man giving another man a chance, "Look… I was like you once, I thought the test was a load of crap… and I still think I was right. So I'll tell you what I'll do. You just tell me what outcome you'd like and I'll make it happen."

"What about Butch? He didn't like his result."

"Mr. DeLoria is positively detestable, Tom. You, on the other hand, are very promising. You've got a lot of your father in you. So how about it, Tom… what would you like to grow up to be?"

Tom gazed down at the papers and thought long and hard…

Tom walked out and Amata immediately latched onto him, "So what did you get?"

Tom smiled and said, "Marriage counselor."

Amata snorted laughter, as he knew she would, and walked into the classroom. Moments later she left feeling rather put out by her result.

"Pedicurist," she said with disgust, "that's just sexist!"

Tom laughed, as she knew he would.

They spent the rest of the day together, wandering around the Vault and talking about their future and what they could achieve now that they were ready to be adults, at least on paper.

**3 Years Later**

Tom could feel himself being dragged less than willingly from a very deep slumber. He could feel his dreams falling away from him as sounds from reality began to penetrate his mind.

One sound in particular…

_Tom… Tom wake up…_

Amata's voice.

His eyes peeled open and he looked up at Amata, "I was just dreaming about you," he said stupidly.

"This isn't the time for stupid jokes Tom!"

Tom sat up in bed. Alarms were going off in the Vault and he could hear shouting, "What's going on?"

"It's your Dad," Amata cried, "He's left the Vault!"

Tom blinked, not getting it, "What are you talking about?"

"I mean your father, Doctor Williams, has opened the Vault door and left. My father is looking for you right now… they killed Jonas!"

Suddenly sleep seemed to have been hours ago. "What?"

"They shot him and now they're looking for you! They think you know something!"

"Well I don't! How was I supposed to know Dad was going to do a runner… I thought it wasn't possible to get out of the Vault!"  
>"We all did," Amata whimpered, "That's why Daddy's so angry."<p>

Tom was struggling to collect his thoughts, "Well what am I going to do?"

"You have to run."

Time seemed to stop.

Tom stared down at Amata, "What?"

"Get out of the Vault… follow your Dad."

"That's crazy," but it wasn't.

"You'll be killed if you don't go, Tom… I don't want that."

Tom looked up into Amata's shining eyes, saw the tears that threatened to break.

Finally he nodded and jumped out of the bed, "Any idea on how I'm going to get out of here?" He didn't think about what to take. He simply picked up a baseball bat and placed it by the door and started rummaging through his cupboard until he finally found what he was looking for: his BB gun.

It had been a present from his father when he was ten. It was useful on radroaches, but probably wouldn't slow most people down.  
>Still it was better than nothing. He also pocketed the picture of himself standing next to his father with the gun, which Jonas had taken that day, along with the tin full of shots.<p>

"I know there's a secret passage tunnel underneath the Overseer's private office that leads to the vault entrance. You'll need to get into his computer though. My name is the password."

He mounted the gun on his back, held in place by the strap and headed for the door where Amata was standing holding something out to him.

A bulky looking pistol with a thick handle, "I got it from Daddy's desk. It's a scary world out there," she muttered.

For a moment Tom hesitated, and then he took the gun, checked the safety and tucked it into his waist band.

"I don't want to use this in the vault," he said.

Amata nodded.

For a moment they just stood looking at each other, neither sure of what to say. Then Tom stepped forward and held her close in a warm embrace, "You're my best friend Amata… take care of yourself."

"You too," she sniffled.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then left, taking the bat with him. Amata stood in his room, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.

Tom stepped out into the corridor where sirens were blasting and orange lights were flashing.

A security officer stood at the end of the corridor and saw him. He started towards him, "Hold it!"

Tom recognised him, but gripped the handle of the bat, "I'm sorry Gerry." He swung hard, smacking the officer on the visor and knocking him unconscious. He slumped against the wall.

Tom decided to go left, the opposite direction of the officer. Before he had gone more than twenty paces he crashed into Butch.

"You've gotta help me man, my mum's in serious trouble!"

All ferocity put aside Tom answered, "What's going on Butch?"

"The radroaches, man, they've gotten into the vault. You've got to help my mum!"

"Take me to her!"

Tom followed Butch for half a minute before they got to the block he shared with his mother. Through the window they could see what was happening.

Radroaches are cockroaches mutated by the radiation caused by the nuclear holocaust. Having reached the size of the average cat they had become a potentially lethal nuisance.

Butch's mother was on the floor being savaged by the monsters, blood streaming down her arms as they jumped and bit at her.

Tom wasted no time in getting inside and swinging the bat hard, knocking one off of her front, moments away from biting her face off. It crashed against the wall and fell to the floor, twitching. He stepped on another, crushing it under his foot with a disgustingly heavy squelch and he killed the last one with a hard swing of the bat, crushing its head into the ground.

Butch rushed forward to help his mother up, "Mum you're okay now, we did it. You're safe."

Tom left without a word. Time was running short.

Just outside the diner Officer Gomez and Andy, the robot were fighting off another swarm of radroaches, Andy letting out a battle cry as he unleashed his blowtorch on them, sizzling their antennas and cooking their flesh.

Gomez was beating them mercilessly with his baton when he spotted Tom, "We've been ordered to take you out on sight kid."

Tom was frozen.

"Well… get moving!" Gomez urged.

Tom ran on past him, finally realising just how good a man Officer Gomez was.

As he entered the atrium, an octagonal room with a balcony overlooking the floor, Tom saw two other vault dwellers, Mary and Tom Holden.

"Tom don't we'll never make it," Mary was pleading with her husband.

"They won't hurt us they've known us for years," Tom insisted. Suddenly he made a break for the door at the front of the atrium, "Don't shoot, it's me, Tom Holden."

As he made it to the doors shots rang out and blood sprayed from his back. Tom fell twitching to the floor.

Mary shrieked and rushed to the body of her husband but was shot down by two officers behind plastic visors before she could reach him.

Tom stood shaking in the doorway, as he slipped the bat into his belt and drew the pistol. Suddenly he was around the corner and pointing his gun at the officers, "You murderers! What have you done!" As he tried to pull the trigger he realised with dread that the safety was still on. His stomach fell away as he waited for the officers to shoot him down.

Instead they jumped and ducked back into the doorway, taking cover around the corner.

Tom took the opportunity to sprint for the door on the right of the entrance that was jammed open by a locker. Once past it and on his way up the stairs he stepped on several radroaches, viciously.

He crossed the balcony over to the corridor that led to the Overseers office.

Suddenly somebody was rushing at him. Tom looked up in time to see Security Chief Hannon rushing towards him. He quickly had the bat out and swung it hard, knocking the gun from Hannon's hand, and in fact breaking three fingers. Hannon's cries of pain were cut short by Tom bringing that bat down hard on top of his head. He fell to the ground and did not stir.

Following the corridor behind the next door Tom began to hear voices.

"Amata tell me where the boy is and we can end this whole thing," came Overseer Alphonse's sickly sweet voice. Tom had never liked the man with his white hair and pretentious values, even as a child. Now he flat out hated him, listening to him interrogate his own daughter.

And as he turned the corner there it was, in a room just off the corridor: Amata sitting in a chair with the Overseer, her father leering over her like a story-book monster with his bodyguard Officer Mack in the corner.

"Daddy please stop, don't you understand, I can't tell you. Why are you doing this to me?" Amata pleaded with her father.

The Overseer's voice suddenly took on an edge, "Don't play games with me, girl, or I can't be held responsible for what happens to you… for the good of the vault."

Tom's stomach lurched and he started forward, almost in a trance, thinking only of protecting Amata.

Her own voice took on a different edge, "I'm not telling you anything, and don't pretend you aren't enjoying this daddy. You're sick."

"Don't speak to me like that!" the Overseer roared, "I lead this vault through every crisis and-"

Tom stepped into the room, gun held out, safety off, "And if you make one more move you'll lose your head."

Alphonse froze but Officer Mack stepped forward, beginning to draw his pistol.

Tom looked him square in the eye, "Don't."

Mack froze.

"Take the gun out, slowly, with two fingers and slide it over here."

Officer Mack obliged and the gun clattered past Tom's feet.

"Overseer… please come over here. I have something extremely important to tell you about my father's escape."

The Overseer cautiously stepped around his daughter and approached Tom.

"Let's not be foolish about this, son. There's always a civilised solution."

Tom wanted to hurt him with words, saying that interrogating your daughter wasn't exactly civilised. Instead he just hurt him, bringing the gun down hard on the side of his head, knocking him out.

Officer Mack launched himself forward the moment Tom moved to hit the Overseer. He tackled him, knocking the gun from his hand and the two struggled on the ground. Soon Mack had his baton against Tom's throat and was pushing down with all his weight while Tom pushed back as hard as he could… but his vision was fading.

Suddenly a shot rang out and Mack jerked backwards and fell on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth.

Amata stood above them, breathing heavy and clutching the gun she had just fired, her hands shaking.

Tom calmly got to his feet and gently eased the gun from her grip, switching the safety on and tucking it into his belt.

"I…" she stammered, "I killed him… I…"

"You had no other choice," Tom muttered, "You saved my life."

Amata didn't respond.

"C'mon, let's get out of here."

They continued down the corridor and entered the room outside of the overseer's office. There was a shape on the floor and for a moment Tom couldn't figure out what it was… then he saw it was Jonas.

"No…" Tom moaned. He ran forward and checked Jonas' pulse. He was dead.

His face was bruised and crusted with blood and his glasses were nowhere to be seen.

Sticking out of his pocket was a holodisk labeled 'For Thomas'. Tom slowly slipped it out of Jonas' breast pocket and clipped it into his Pip-Boy, downloading the content. Once it was done he ejected the holodisk and stepped on it.

He stood back up, Amata's hand on his back and they stepped past Jonas.

They entered the Overseer's round office and Amata sat at the computer while Tom locked the door.

"I'm just looking for the command to open the door… oh… woah. Looks like more people entered and left the vault than we thought."  
>Tom stepped forward, "What do you mean?"<p>

"I found some reports on here… apparently Daddy sent out scouts to see what the area was like… there's things in here about raiders and giant mutated ants… the whole area is just wasteland… except for a town West of the vault entrance… Megaton. That might be where your Dad went," Amata looked up at Tom.

Tom nodded, "I'll see if I can find it. Have you found the command for the passage yet?"

"Yeah hang on a second."

Finally after a moment a hissing started and the two of them jumped back as the Overseer's chair moved to reveal a staircase leading down.

Tom led the way down into the dark. They finally came to what seemed to be a dead end, but with a lit switch on the wall. Tom flicked the switch and the wall slid aside, revealing a control room. They entered it and found themselves in the entrance room of the vault. The stepped through the control room and into the foyer, a series of metal platforms, wires and electronic devices. One main switch sat at the top of a metal ramp that led down to the base of the vault door.

Tom placed his hand on the switch and pulled.

Yellow lights flashed and spun, sirens went off and hydraulics hissed into life.

"Oh my God… you did it… Tom you did it. You opened the Vault."

Tom turned to her and took her face up gently in his hands, "Come with me."

Amata smiled, tears welling in her eyes again, "I would but… but someone needs to stay behind and stand in front of my maniac father. Someone needs to keep some balance in the vault."

The huge round vault door began to slide aside on its track, revealing bright white light.

Tom's heart fell and he nodded, "That's fair enough. Stay safe Amata… I-"

"HEY! STOP!"

Tom was cut off by officer's rounding the corner, guns drawn.

Thinking fast Tom caught Amata and pulled her close, pressing the gun to her temple, "Another step and she dies!"

The officer's stopped.

Tom leaned in and whispered in Amata's ear, "The safety's on." The sirens and hissing pipes was enough to stop the officers from hearing but not stop Amata from understanding. She nodded slightly, his arm around her neck, to show she understood.

Tom slowly began to step back, pulling her closer and closer to the wasteland, the outside world. The officers stayed where they were, guns low, waiting for an opportunity.

And then Tom's feet were crunching on dirt and they were outside the vault.

He leaned in close again and whispered in her ear, "Goodbye Amata… I love you."

Tears streamed down her face as she whispered barely audible words back, "I love you too."

"I'm sorry I never told you until now."

"Me too."

"Start walking forward."

Amata did as she was told and Tom kept the gun to the back of her head until she was on one side of the doorway and he was on the other, his arm spanning the length.

"Stop," he said, loud enough for her and the officers. He looked over at them, "Close the door."

They pulled the switch and the vault door hissed and steam was released and sirens went off again as the door began to roll back over on its track. Tom pulled his arm back just in time as the door slammed closed, cutting him off from the vault completely and he was left facing three digits in the middle of a huge steel door.

101.


	4. Chapter 3

3.

Tom was now wrapped in silence at the bottom of a stone cavern. He took a few steps back and felt something crack under his foot. He looked down and immediately jumped away.

Two skeletons were lying on the cavern floor, one now missing its skull, clutching signs. One sign said 'Help us', the other saying 'Let us in motherfuckers!'. Tom looked from the signs to the door and noticed the camera above it, which was coated in dust.

Behind him was the only source of light, the outside world shining in through the wood paneled door and door frame, which had been fitted to the cave entrance. Wires lay in a grid upon the door and frame, adding strength to the structure. White light was shining through the planks of the entire entrance, lighting the cavern somewhat.

It was a different kind of light to the ones in the vault… stronger, alive. It wasn't a flickering dead thing, like the fluorescents.

Lying by the door was another skeleton.

Tom stepped cautiously forward, his feet crunching slightly on the stony ground and placed his hand on the handle of the door. He knew there was already no turning back, but he somehow felt that opening this door was the real deal maker. Once he stepped out into the wastes he would either have to adapt… or perish.

And hope that once he caught up with his father that everything would be okay.

He turned the handle with a little effort, as it was encrusted with dust and rust. He pushed the door and it creaked open, metal whining and wood groaning.

He stepped out and for a moment was blinded by a yellow light in the sky. He didn't even realise what it was until he remembered his basic schooling.

_The sun…_

It was so much more intense than he thought it could be. As he stumbled forward and away from the mountain side he saw a path running down the mountainside and an outcrop that would give him a view of the world he had just entered.

As dust was whipped away he walked towards the outcrop, gazing out at the huge world he felt he had discovered.

Its size was in fact the first thing he realised. No walls, no doors… just _space._

_The sky!_

Tom looked up and his breath was taken away. The sky was a vast pale blue thing, dotted with clouds yellowed by the dirt.

He looked back down at the view before him.

Standing on the edge of the outlook was a small bent metal sign with the words 'Scenic Overlook' and beyond that was the ruin of what was once a small town. Houses which had been burnt to the ground, their frames alone still standing, roads with huge chunks missing, derelict vehicles, with no tires, left on the side of the road and a lone water tower rusting away amongst it all, its support beams groaning in the wind.

On the horizon he could see other buildings far off in the distance, including a single tall spire pointing up into the sky like a sword.

Suddenly Tom's Pip-Boy started vibrating. He looked down to see what the problem was. Several radio signals had been picked up. He checked the first and heard only crackling sounds mixed with the occasional noise that sounded like something howling.

The signals reminded Tom of the message his father had left him. He switched it on and his father's voice spoke from the Pip-Boy.

"Hold on Jonas, I need to record this first.

I... I don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. I thought about it for a long time, but in the end I decided it was best for you not to know. So many things could have gone wrong and there's really no telling how the overseer will react when he finds out. It's best if he can blame everything on me. Obviously you already know that I'm gone. It was something I needed to do. You're an adult now. You're ready to be on your own. Maybe someday things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I'm going. I don't want you to follow me. God knows life in the vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going."

Suddenly Jonas's voice interrupted his father's, "Don't mean to rush you, Doc, but I'd feel better if we got this over with."

"Okay. Go ahead. Goodbye. I love you. Remember your mother's verse."

The recording clicked and ended.

His mother's verse.

For years his father had pointed to the framed verse on his bedside table and told him it was his mother's favourite verse. He could still hear his father reciting those words in his deep comforting voice:

"_I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end. I shall give unto him who is athirst the fountain of the waters of life freely."_

Revelations 21:6.

Tom's mother had died during childbirth. He'd often asked his father questions about her when he was younger, curious about the mother he had never met.

And now following the father it seemed he never knew.

For a moment Tom stood on the outcrop and just gazed out the world he felt he had discovered… but in fact had been lying in wait.

Finally he started down the path and found himself on what had once been a tarmac road, though of course he had no idea what tarmac was. He saw a manufactured path with cracks and potholes filled with green water and a metal barrier along the side, twisted and deformed from its original state.

As he walked he passed several signs bent like arms and rusted out wrecks that had once been cars. The dirt around him was practically black and every tree rose from the ground like a twisted and emaciated hand, skinless, leafless. Then he was on the main street of the town he had seen from the outcrop.

Rising up on either side of him were the skeletal shapes of houses and buildings that had been long since abandoned.

Rusting mailboxes and scattered white picket fences surrounded the wrecks and lamp posts lay across the road like fallen soldiers.

Suddenly he heard a strange sound… something like a flute.

As Tom stared a round form, appearing to float through the air, turned onto the main road and started moving towards him. The sound appeared to be a flute being played to the rhythm of marching drums, and was issuing from the strange floating machine. As it passed by, seemingly unaware of Tom, he got a closer look at it.

It was round with a speaker attached to the front and several antennae issuing from its top and side and pointing behind it, as though they were combed back. It also emitted an annoying buzzing sound as it floated past and seemed to have a small laser attached to its bottom.

Tom tried to get its attention by waving at it as it passed but it made no move indicating that it saw him. After several futile attempts to get its attention Tom gave up and started on down the main road again.

A large red metal rocket supported by curved metal beams above two bowsers indicated that Tom was at the corner of the Red Rocket petrol station. Beyond it was a ridge and…

_People!_

There were several moving along the ridge, as tall as people. Without thinking Tom waved his arms and shouted, "Hey! Over here! Can you help me!"

The figures paused.

A bad feeling began to creep up Tom's spine as he realised that waving to strangers might not be the best idea out in the wasteland.

His fears were confirmed when the group started running towards him and a bullet whizzed past his ear.

Tom turned tail and ran, drawing his gun and flicking off the safety. A second bullet grazed his thigh and he cried out, stumbling. He leaped into the bones of a two story house and hid behind a piece of wall still standing. He edged his eyes around to see the attackers.

There were five and all of them were wearing very little clothing, except for spiked leather armour and, on one of them, a bucket being used as a helmet. Of the five two of them had guns, a rifle and a pistol. The other three were armed with a bat with nails in it, a chain and several knives.

Tom fired off two rounds and the party split, taking cover, except for one which had received a bullet to the groin and had fallen to the ground. Tom would have been impressed with himself if he hadn't been aiming above their heads in an attempt to scare them off.

Still one down was still one down.

Tom withdrew back behind the wall, his mind racing and his heart pumping as he tried to think of a plan and ignore the burning he could feel in his thigh.

He listened for a moment and then poked his head out again.

He had shot down (intentionally or not) the one with the pistol. He was still moaning on the ground and clutching his bleeding groin.

Tom decided to try and talk to them, "Back off and no one else has to get hurt!"

They responded with a round of course and disturbing laughter.

The one with the knives broke his cover and started charging.

Tom pulled the trigger and his stomach lurched as it made an empty _click_.

He dropped the gun, no time to reload it and pulled the BB gun, still loaded from the last time he had used it (despite his father's warnings to never leave it loaded) and fired. The gun made a coughing sound as the pellet was propelled by air and hit the attacker right between the eyes.

He stopped dead in his tracks, sure he'd been shot.

The pellet fell to the ground with a titter and the man touched his sun blackened forehead. Not a scratch.

The man grinned wickedly, "He's got no bullets!" and ran forward, snatching the gun from Tom's hands and smacking him in the face with the butt.

Tom fell back and smacked his head on the rocky ground. He could feel something warm flowing from his nose. Pinpricks of light were floating in front of him.

The huge man dropped the BB gun and sat on top of Tom, drawing a long wicked looking knife, crusted with rust but as sharp as a razor blade.

He raised the knife, his rotten teeth bared, above his head.

Tom pulled himself together just in time. The knife came down and he caught the man's wrist. As he did he threw all his force into a roll, toppling them and leaving him on top with the blade in his hand. Without thinking he thrust the blade through the man's throat.

It did not go in easy, but with a slow grinding squelch. Blood welled up around the wound and filled the man's mouth as he groaned in agony and his eyes widened. He twitched for a moment, struggling half-heartedly, but soon died.

_Killed…_

_I killed him…_

_I've never…_

In a daze Tom got to his feet, his hands covered in blood, another man's blood, and his face speckled with it, mixing with his sweat. He couldn't hear anything or feel anything… everything was just fuzzy… there was a ringing in his ears…

He turned and came face to face with a feral looking woman wearing a dog's face on her head. Her teeth were bared as she swung the bat into his head, luckily missing him with the nails. She was screaming something with a guttural voice, but he couldn't understand it… he couldn't understand anything.

He was on the ground and being turned over by the woman. She was straddling him… she felt wrong on his body, like an infection…

She was wrenching the knife from the fallen man's throat, running her tongue along it, tasting the blood and grinning, her teeth stained red. She leaned forward and forced her bloodied tongue down his throat and his nose was filled with the most horrid smell he had ever encountered.

He gagged, spitting out blood and struggling underneath her, but she was strong and he got nowhere. His hearing seemed to rush back to him and he heard what she was saying between laughing like a hyena.

"Aww, doesn't the pretty boy like me. Too bad, so sad!"

She leaned in close grinning like some kind of monster, and ran one hand over his body.

"Don't you worry now baby," she cooed falsely, "You're gonna die slow."

Suddenly she slipped the blade between his lower ribs and he screamed with agony as the rusty blade pierced through muscle and skin and grazed his bone.

He bucked it and kicked and struggled as she slowly slipped the blade out of him again, one hand on his chest, "I love it when they buck!" she crowed.

She quickly drew the knife across his cheek leaving a long but shallow cut.

She leered down at him, "You're going to be so much fun."

And then the right side of her face partially exploded and his entire head was spattered with blood, including his mouth.

The knife fell and so did the woman. Tom sat up, horrified to see what was happening.

A tall bulky black man with a thick grey beard, moving faster than his bulk would have suggested possible, was standing outside, a revolver smoking in his hand. The other two raiders, whom he had shot between to save Tom, both screeched like Banshee's and leapt at him. He quickly fired two more rounds from the revolver, blowing both of their feral female heads off and leaving a mess for the birds.

Tom could feel the dizziness taking over and the darkness swarming in. It told hold of him completely as the man, his saviour, stepped forward and spoke soft words… words he could not hear as he fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 4

4.

His dreams were… bizarre to say the least.

He saw them through a haze of pain and vertigo… a tall robot whose wide torso angled into his head. He seemed to speak to Tom as he floated past, _Welcome to Megaton… Friendliest town around._

He saw a hulking form in front of him made up of triangular pieces of metal. As he floated towards it a circular machine in the middle of the wall began to turn and hum. Two triangular pieces slid apart, grinding against the metal of the wall and revealing a gate made of corrugated iron sheets. Then the entire picture faded away… everything faded away…

The first thing to return was the pain. It was all over, his face, his side, his leg…

The pain was alone in the blackness and Tom could find no distraction from it. He wanted to be back in the vault, he wanted to be back in his bed… he wanted to hear his father cooking their rations on the stove, maybe chatting with Jonas.

But then his vision started to come back and he was whisked away from a dark world where he could wish… instead he was brought back into the barren world where you could be killed in the time it took to make a wish.

His eyes opened and he saw a dingy switched off light hanging above him. He turned his head and found that he was on a makeshift hospital bed, surrounded by a plastic curtain.

He could tell he was in a clinic… the dingiest clinic he'd ever heard of but a clinic nonetheless. He tried to call out; "Hello?" his voice was a hoarse whisper. His mouth was as dry as a bone. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Hello? Is there a doctor in here?"

"Yeah. So?"

Whoever he was his bedside manner was atrocious.

Suddenly the curtain was flung aside and a man, not unlike his rescuer but with a shorter beard and in a white shirt, was leaning over him, a pen light in his hand and flashing in Tom's eyes, "How do you feel?"

Tom couldn't help but blink at the light, "Ah… well I'm pretty sore."

"You got shot genius, of course you're sore. I want to know if you feel nauseated?" the doctor said gruffly.

"Uh no. Should I? And how did my clothes get changed?" He was now wearing a ragged grey shirt and a pair of extremely worn out jeans… and what felt like no underwear.

"Well a raider forced blood into your system and ninety-nine percent of them has contracted hepatitis, syphilis, chlamydia and most kinds of dermatitis you can think of. When Simms told me what happened I had to pump you full of every drug I could find that would fight those kinds of infections… but I didn't have anything for dermatitis so if you start to itch, tough shit. I need to know if you feel ill because I might have OD'd you or you might still have something. And I had to cut your vault jumpsuit off to get at your wounds. It was covered in blood anyway, you're better off without it. Do I need to spell any of that out for you?"

Tom shook his head, "No I'm not unfamiliar with basic medicine."

"Yeah everyone's got an opinion. Stand up," he put the light away.

Tom sat up gingerly, his side beginning to throb more violently. He grimaced.

"Yeah I get it, stitches in your side," the doctor muttered, "Hurry up I ain't got all day."

Tom finally got to his feet, swaying a little, "How long have I been out?"

"Two days," the doc leaned in, inspecting something on Tom's cheek, "Lift your shirt."

Tom did so and saw a long line of stitches running along his side. The wound was puffy and red, "That looks infected."

"Well why don't you just take my stethoscope and I'll retire," the doctor said curtly, "Of course it's infected. What it _isn't _is swelling up like a balloon like it was two days ago."

"How'd you sterilise it?"  
>"Homebrew."<p>

Tom nodded, "Okay… if it works it works."

"Alright sit down now and I'll tell you what's gonna happen."

Tom sat.

"You've got six stitches in your side so don't do any star jumps or anything. You also have another five on your right thigh. You have several bruises and a shallow cut across your cheek. Come back in a week and I'll check if the stitches can come out. Don't pick at them or I'll put a cone around your neck. I'm not wasting any more homebrew on infected wounds."

Tom nodded, "Okay, thank you sir. Can-"

"Sir? I work for a living boy. Name's Doctor Church."

"Oh hi, I'm Tom Williams." Tom offered his hand.

Church ignored it, "Simms paid your fees so as far as I'm concerned I don't want to see you again unless you're on death's door or you're here to get your stitches out."

Tom nodded and started towards the front door. Looking around he could see he was in a six by twelve meter room made up of tin sheets and littered with medical instruments.

Before he opened the door Tom stopped and turned, "I have one question, Doctor Church. Where am I?"

"Boy," Church leaned forward and pushed the door open, "You're in Megaton."

Tom stepped out into the harsh light of the sun and found himself in the heart of a crater. Rising up all around him were makeshift buildings on stilts, a line of thick pipe, balconies, walkways and a wall surrounding it all, leaning in, much like an inversed crater. Every structure seemed to have been made from scrap metal. As Tom looked around he stepped back as he spotted a huge atomic bomb, head down and lodged into the ground in the middle of the crater. Pooled around it was a puddle of knee deep water, the colour of bile.

Several people wrapped in beige rags were milling around the bomb and seemed to be worshipping it.

Suddenly something made a deep rumbling noise. Tom turned his head and looked down to see a huge orange-red beast with stubby horns and a long muzzle. Then it turned… and Tom saw that it in fact had two heads.

Tom stepped back, his back hitting the railing as the animal looked up at him with not two, but four black beady uninterested eyes. It snorted, mooed and turned away. It appeared to be tied to a post.

Tom slowly stepped off of the metal platform he was on and onto the dirt, inching his way past the strange creature. A man sat next to it, a bucket by his side and looked up at Tom with a quizzical expression, "What's your problem, ain't you ever seen a Brahmin before?"

Tom shook his head and tried to reply with courtesy, "No… I can't say I have."

He started up the steep hill of the crater, using the metal steps that had been buried in the dirt for just this purpose, making his way to what he supposed was the entrance. Soon he was at the top and looking down at the town that dipped into the crater when a tall black man he recognised came striding over. It was his rescuer, the man in the long duster and the cowboy hat. He could see now that he wore a sheriff badge on his chest.

"Well, well, look who finally woke up," the man said, offering his hand, "Lucas Simms, sheriff of Megaton. And Mayor when the need arises." He wore an automatic rifle slung across his back. Tom could not see the revolver.

He shook hands with Simms, "Tom Williams. I can't tell you how thankful I am for what you did."

Simms waved the thanks off, "It's what I do, Tom. Every man could use a little good karma out here in the wastes. Besides I don't like it when raiders get that close so I like to handle those situations quickly."  
>"Where are we… I mean how far from where I was attacked?"<p>

"About a one minute walk," Simms said, smiling, "Down in Springvale, the town down the road from the vault that I'm guessing you came from."

Tom opened his mouth to ask Simms how he knew where he had come from.

"I saw the jumpsuit and recognised the number on your back. You're not the first vault dweller who's venture out into these parts. Yeah our lookout, Stockholm up there," Simms pointed to a catwalk above the entrance to Megaton, "Saw some raiders in a shootout with someone close to town and thought I should know. Lucky for you he's got a sharp eye and even sharper ears."

"Well I'll make sure to thank him too."  
>"Be my guest, if you can find a way up there. So what are you doing so far from home, 101?"<p>

Tom hesitated for a moment.

"Hey it's none of my business," Simms said hastily, "I'm just being friendly, but if you don't want to share that's fine. Normal for the wasteland."

Tom shook his head, "No, maybe you can help me. I'm following my father, James Williams. He left the vault we were living in and if I hadn't followed him I probably would have been killed by now. Have you seen anyone come through town wearing the same jumpsuit I was when you found me?"

Simms shook his head, causing Tom's heart to fall, "I'm sorry kid I haven't. But that don't mean no one came through. I'm not always able to meet and greet everyone who comes through here. You might want to check Moriarty's Saloon," he turned and pointed to the West side of the crater at a tall leaning shape with a sign reading 'Moriarty's Saloon' above its door, "He catches more of the traffic than I do. He's got more of what they want than I do, with his drinks and Nova."

Tom considered the building he could see and didn't like how he felt about it.

He nodded, however and said, "I think I will drop by and visit Moriarty. But I'd like to ask you about this place first."

"Ask away."

"Well… the bomb?"

Simms laughed, filling the usually sterile and hostile air with a welcome mirth, "Ah yes the bomb. Everyone always wants to know about the bomb. Well the thing about the bomb is that it landed and didn't explode. Those guys worshipping it: they're part of a sect called 'The Children of Atom'. When the town was being built they had the help of those guys in exchange for leaving the bomb where it is. It's still active, though most people think it's harmless. I'm always terrified that one day some kid is going to throw a ball in the wrong direction or some Atom guy is going to try and fondle it and send us all up in radiation and fire. But until then I'm going to keep on watching over all of them and keeping them safe. I got a real soft spot for this town. It's home."

Tom nodded, "It does have its own charm. A very triangular and rusty charm but a charm nonetheless."

Simms smiled, "You're referring to our unique architectural choices. The place was built using materials scavenged from an airfield that no longer exists due to the fact that the founders turned it into this. Almost everything you see here was once a plane. I've got to say they did a fair bit with what they had. I particularly like the entrance. That jet engine works to open and close the gates."

Tom remembered his bizarre comatose dreams and the triangular doors he'd seen open and suddenly realised that he'd seen the entrance to Megaton open before Simms and he.

"Except for one or two exceptions everything here was once made of plane or warehouse," Simms said with pride, "It's a true testament to the endurance of man. We've got over forty people living here. It's no Rivet City, but it's the next best thing."

Tom's eyebrows knitted together, "Rivet City?"

Simms nodded, "Yeah. It's the biggest town in the Capital Wasteland, a huge pre-war aircraft carrier converted into a city. I've been a few times. Security's real tight, but once you're in it's real nice and safe."

Tom was beginning to get confused, "I don't mean to be rude sheriff, but you're saying a whole lot of stuff that is really starting to confuse me. I haven't lived in 'the wasteland' my whole life… I don't understand what seems to have happened to the world… can you please explain what's going on? What happened here?"

Simms looked at Tom from underneath his hat for a moment before saying, "The war, Tom."


	6. Chapter 5

5.

The two sat on bar stools outside of a little diner called 'The Brass Tavern'. It was no more than twenty steps from the Doc's front door and five steps from the huge bomb that now loomed up behind them.

"How much did they teach you about the world in that little old vault?" Simms asked as he munched on a piece of food he'd bought from one of the owners, Jenny Stahl. It was called Iguana-on-a-Stick. Tom looked down at the pink and white cooked meat on the stick and bit at it tentatively. It was tough, but not too bad.

They were under the patio area of the diner, shielded from the sun by a tin roof held up by crooked wooden posts. A yellow neon sign in Chinese hung above the front door.

"Well… they taught us about the war and the nuclear holocaust… and that that was why we lived in the vault," Tom said.

"Do you know what the war was about?"

Tom shook his head, "Specifics were not part of everyday life in the vault."

Simms looked at him seriously, "Do you even know what year it is?"

For a moment Tom felt sure he could answer… and then realised he couldn't. He was starting to see just how much had been kept from them in the vault.

Simms sighed, "This is going to be a long talk. But a necessary one so listen close Tom. The year is 2277 and it's been two hundred years since the bombs were dropped.

"The cause of the war was an energy crisis. In 2050 most fossil fuels had run out. This meant that military means were used to secure the last few petroleum resources in the world. The Middle East was caught up in this and their city, Tel Aviv, was destroyed in a terrorist attack in 2053. This was called the Resource Wars, and caused the United Nations to disband as peace efforts were failing and nations were leaving its ranks.

"America's last few oil reserves were in Alaska, which China invaded in 2066. The US annexed Canada to get their aid in defending Alaska in 2076. Meanwhile there were riots and protests and all kinds of crazy going on. The US launched an attack on China to take the pressure off of Alaska. It worked, though, and we won back Anchorage in January, 2077, and the Chinese retreated. By now most nations had gone bankrupt due to the war and the fossil fuel shortage. Truthfully the only reason we beat the Chinese was because we developed unique battle armour, called Powered Infantry Armour.

"The Great War itself only lasted about two hours. Nobody knows who threw the first stone, but soon the US, China, Russia and any other country with a stockpile of nuclear weapons was throwing them as far as they could. They created mountain ranges, burned up lakes, contaminated everything with radiation and it's said the entire world suffered one huge desert summer when the explosions finished.

"The vaults were built for this reason, but most people didn't listen to the sirens when they sounded… they died. The vaults locked those who did listen in and protected them from the horrors that were ensuing above. Some people found alternate cover, but the radiation transformed the survivors into what most people call ghouls. You'll know one you see one. For the next twenty years the world was a brutal and violent place before the vaults opened back up and let the dwellers out again, releasing them into the wasteland. Not every major city was burned up. Washington is still standing and I've heard that Las Vegas even has electricity, but they've got other problems.  
>"And all that brings you to today, August the twentieth, 2277."<p>

Tom had sat silent the entire time that Simms spoke and taken everything in. His mind was buzzing with questions, general questions, questions that could be answered later…

"I understand that you've got a lot to process there kid," Simms said, "But trust me, all that history means nothing out here. All that matters is survival. Come with me." Simms got up from his stool and started back up the edge of the crater. Tom followed after him.

Simms led him to the top and to the left where a house stood up on long stilts with what looked like the body of a commercial airplane sitting on top of it, "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, "It's not much, but it's home." He opened the door and led Tom inside.

Inside was dark and muggy. There was a vast living room with a table in the middle, a kitchen at the back wall and a staircase that led up to the second level.

Simms started rummaging through a shelf that stood against the stairs, mumbling to himself. Finally he found what he was looking for and stood up with a small microchip in his hand, "Here it is. Plug this into your Pip-Boy there and press download."

Tom took the chip and did as he was told. After a few seconds the Pip-Boy popped the chip back out and Tom handed it back to Simms, who said, "A guy traded this little thing for a bottle of purified water a few years back. I thought it would come in handy, and occasionally it does. You've just downloaded a fairly up to date digital map of the Capital Wasteland. It covers the area from Raven Rock to the North West all the way to Washington over in the East. If you find places you can mark them on there and if you're trying to find your way somewhere you can place a marker and it'll keep you on track."

"Thanks Sherriff Simms. You've been a lot of help. I do have one more question though?"  
>"Shoot."<br>"Why bottle caps?"

Simms laughed, hearty and warm, "Mostly cos they ain't gettin' made anymore. The Great War wiped out the machinery that could make and paint them, so counterfeiting isn't easy. And there are only so many left. Seems strange, but if you think about it makes sense. If you do a couple of jobs around town you should make enough to buy some supplies and get yourself back on the road… I assume that's what your priority is?"

Tom nodded, "Yes absolutely."

"Ok. I got one for you if you're up for it. I don't know what they teach you down in that vault, but if you can disarm our namesake I'd be very grateful… perhaps to the tune of a few hundred caps."

Tom nodded, "I'll make sure to take a look at it soon."  
>"I understand it's probably not a big priority for you. I'm just saying if you can do it, I can pay it."<p>

"I'll do my best. Now you said Moriarty might have a chance of helping me?"

Simms nodded, a sour expression crossing his face, "Yes but don't expect any help of his to come free. I'm not telling you how to hold yourself out here… I'm just warning you."

Ten minutes later Tom stood outside the towering saloon, its huge tin walls towering over him, creaking slightly in the wind.

Tom took a breath and pushed the door open, stepping into the dark saloon.

He was met by the combined smell of spirits (including scotch, his father's own favourite) and sweat. The saloon was made up of two stories. The bottom was the bar, comprised of the bench, a parlour to the right and a staircase to the left, leading up to what looked like small apartments. Behind the bar were several rooms for storage and a door on the right wall that was closed. The saloon had maybe five customers, sprinkled throughout the rooms.

He immediately heard the sound of a radio signal whining in and out of focus and several sharp bangs. He turned his head and saw the bartender, a rag over their shoulder, smacking the radio's top over and over with their fist… a fist that looked at least half decomposed.

Tom's eyes continued up the rotted arm, past the shoulder and gazed into a face more nightmarish than anything he could have imagined.

Jawbone could be seen through mottled, yellowing flesh and there was only a sprinkling of black burnt looking hair on its head. There appeared to be no cartilage left from the nose, leaving only wrinkled flesh over bone, two slits below milky white eyes.

Then it spoke in a voice that dragged like feet on gravel, "Work, dammit work!"

The radio shuddered and the signal seemed to respond but fell back into its state of white noise.

"Gob!" a voice called from above.

Tom and the thing called Gob both looked up to see a woman in a low cut top, gloves and knee high boots with holed black stockings. Her hair was a tangled mass of orange, in fact everything about her seemed a tangled mess… and yet Tom couldn't help but stare at her.

She strode down the stairs, hand on the railing and looking to the thing behind the bench, "I told you it's not the radio, it's galaxy news radio. They're signal's gone to shit."

Gob ceased hitting the radio, rubbed the bar down with the cloth for a moment and then noticed Tom, "Hey, ask for a quote or quit staring!"

Tom jumped and looked at Gob, deciding he sounded more masculine than feminine. He looked right into his milky white eyes and felt his own widen.

"What's the matter, ain't you ever seen a ghoul before?" he demanded.

Tom took a tentative step forward, "Actually… no."

Gob looked at him in an expression that Tom interpreted as doubtful… his lack of eyebrows made it hard to tell, "What, you from a vault or something, smoothskin?"

Tom nodded as he sat down at the bar, "Yeah."

"Oh… okay. What the hell are you doing in this dive then?"

"I'm looking for someone."  
>Gob looked over Tom's shoulder and beckoned someone to come over, "Nova, the kid's here for you."<p>

The red headed woman sauntered over and put her arm on Tom's shoulder, leaning in, "Hi there. New in town?"

"Uh…"

"Do yourself a favour kid… get out. You start off staying a week… a week turns into five years awful quick. But until you're ready to book… what can I do for you?" Her voice was soft and seductive, like velvet.

"Uh I'm looking for someone and Simms sent me up this way."

"Who are you looking for? I'm sure I could help."

"My father."

Gob and Nova both exchanged glances. Gob went back to furiously wiping the table down. Nova licked her lips and took a step back, "Ok… either there's been a misunderstanding here… or you're looking for a service I'm not willing, nor physically able, to provide."

Tom looked back and forth between Gob and Nova, "Uh… I'm from the vault near Springvale. I followed my father out and I have reason to believe he came through here. Has anyone come through here wearing a blue jumpsuit with '101' on the back?"  
>Nova shook her head, "None of my johns sound like that. Gob?"<p>

"What's his drink?"

Tom looked over to Gob, "Scotch."

"Classy man. I'd remember that order. I didn't serve him. You're only other option is asking Moriarty."

"The owner?"

Gob nodded, "Our owner. Not to kind with the words either. He's in his office at the moment but when he comes out I'll point him in your direction… and God help you after that."

"Why, what's the matter with him?"  
>"Nothing complex, he's just an asshole. I work here for virtually nothing. If I wasn't afraid he'd come after me I'd move back to the Underworld."<br>Tom frowned, "Underworld?"

"It's a ghoul city in DC."

Tom nodded, "Okay," he turned to Nova, "What about you, is he that bad?"

Nova nodded, "I'm his whore. Courtesan, he likes to call it. He showed me kindness five years ago… turns out that kindness had a sky high interest rate, and he adds board and food and anything else he can think of onto that price. I've been working off that debt for five years."  
>It was at that moment that heavy footsteps began to ring through the saloon, emanating from what was apparently Moriarty's office. Gobs head went down and he started wiping things furiously with his rag while Nova swept off to chat up another patron.<p>

The door to the office swung open, creaking, and out stepped Moriarty.\


	7. Chapter 6

6

A tall imposing man with a leather vest over a white shirt and long scruffy grey hair with a beard and moustache, Moriarty had a cold grey glint in his eye.

He spotted Tom immediately and walked over, his boots thumping on the ground heavily, "Well, well, well, newcomer to town… newcomer to the wasteland too, by the lack of dirt in your hair and scum on your teeth. You're from that vault, aren't you boy?" His voice was a little high, with a strange accent that Tom would never have recognised, though it was, in fact, Irish.

Tom nodded, "Yes, sir." He felt totally intimidate by this tall broad man.

"Ain't no sirs out here in the wastes, boy. You might find one or two in DC, but not out here… out here the only ranks are strong and weak and only the strong survive. Which are you, do you think?"

Tom didn't answer. He noticed Moriarty glancing at the injuries on his face.

"What can I do for you, pup?"

Tom steeled himself inside, "I'm looking for someone, my father. He would've passed through here a couple of days ago. He would have been wearing a jumpsuit from the vault we came from, 101. Have you seen him?"

Without missing a beat Moriarty replied, "Yeah I've seen him. I know where he's going too."

Tom felt his heart lighten and pressed on eagerly, "Great, can you tell me where he went?"

"Of course… for a price."

Tom immediately sank inside again.

"100 caps and I'll tell you where your daddy went," he said, scratching at his chin.

Tom's jaw dropped, "I don't have 100 caps! I don't have _any _caps!"  
>"Well that's the price if you want to know where he went. Don't have 'em now, then come back when you do, or see how well you do out there with no direction to follow."<p>

For a moment Tom was too stunned to think of anything to say. Finally he said, "Okay… thank you for your time." He turned and left the saloon.

He was almost at the stairs to get off of the balcony that jutted out from the saloon's front when he heard that voice calling after him, "I'll cut you a deal."

Tom turned and saw Moriarty leaning against the railing, gazing down at the rusty little town, a mouldy looking cigarette between his fingers. He took a drag as Tom approached, hesitantly. Once he was standing next to him Moriarty started speaking again, "Disgusting isn't it, this little town? Just a radioactive puddle with a bomb in the center… can't imagine why my father decided to settle here after bringing us over. But it keeps me in caps: I've got fingers in every pie you can find in this little shit splat town and a few outside of it. Most of these folks don't and couldn't understand just how much of their infrastructure is supported by my… various enterprises. One of these enterprises is drugs. Plenty of proud Megatonians have quite a monkey on their back… which means excellent potential business for me. I find someone willing to work, they go out there in the big bad wastes and they get me the product, and I sell it for an up scaled price to the villagers… expensive for them, sure, but they're junkies: they'd march out into the wastes naked for a hit.

"A little while ago I had a girl, Silver, who worked in my saloon. In my opinion Nova does her job better… but besides all that Silver was the one I'd send out to get the drugs and bring them back to me. She did it well… and she was quick with a weapon if trouble came up… she was an opportunist, leapt at any chance to get more for less… which was something I didn't realise could backfire. The junkie bitch took four hundred caps out into the wasteland to purchase me some product… and never came back. Turns out she also took half of the product I hadn't quite sold yet. She's holed up down in Springvale somewhere, so far as I can tell, but I've been far too busy to go down and deal with her.

"Go down and get me caps back, boy, and I'll tell you where your daddy went. Bring back me caps… and kill her."

Tom felt his stomach lurch, "Moriarty… I don't know if I can kill someone in cold blood…"  
>"Then I expect you'll die in a week," Moriarty flicked his cigarette away and pushed himself off the railing, heading back towards his saloon. His hand was on the door when Tom turned and called after him.<p>

"I'll do it."

Moriarty turned slowly.

"I'll get your caps for you."

"And what about Silver?" Moriarty asked. There was almost a tease in his question… along with curiosity.

After a long pause Tom finally said, "I'll do what has to be done."

Moriarty walked back over to Tom and got up close, "If you cheat me boy… I'll have your guts decorate my sign and your eyes pickled. I'm the last person you want to fuck over boy. Do we understand each other?"

Tom looked up into those grey eyes… the eyes of a very quiet and calculating killer. Even Tom's inexperienced and relatively fresh mind could sense the evil behind those eyes… so carefully hidden.

He nodded, "We understand each other."

"Good," Moriarty offered his hand, "It's a deal then?"

A voice screamed in Tom's head not to go anywhere near Moriarty's hand or deal… but he forced that voice down and shook… though he wasn't entirely sure what he was promising to do.

"Deal."

Not long after that Tom had found himself lying in the dirt beneath one of the tin built homes. The sun had set and the town had begun to wind down until nobody was left walking through the streets… though it seemed Tom was not the only one sleeping in the dirt this night.

He hadn't eaten since the slim piece of lizard he'd had with Simms and hadn't had anything to drink since the day before leaving the vault. His stomach was growling, perhaps in protest against the lizard and his throat was dry and sore. He was seriously considering drinking from the sinks that he'd found in the scummy and disgusting smelling restrooms he'd found not far from Moriarty's, despite the fact that the sinks were covered in grime and the Geiger counter in his Pip-Boy had started to tick ominously when he got close.

As he lay with his eyes closed he heard dirt crunching. Then it seemed that someone had sat down next to him. He opened his eyes and found himself next to someone who could only be described as a wasteland wanderer, dressed in rags and emaciated. He also seemed to be missing several teeth and his skin was covered in blisters.

Tom nodded and offered a wary smile.

"New to the wastes?" the man asked.

"That's what they tell me."

"How long?"

"Three days… almost."

The man chuckled, "Feeling the thirst yet?"

Tom nodded, "Yeah, starting to."  
>"The thirst is the worst… the hunger hurts, but you get used to it, your body eats all the fat it can, and there's always a little around… and you've certainly got a little reserve on you, if you know what I mean. Enough to make a raider look at you like you're a steak, juice, raw or cooked. But the thirst… the thirst will drive a man insane. It starts out just uncomfortable, maybe a little pain, dry throat, itchy nose… maybe a split lit. That's the first few days… then you get to your second week… by then you're cringing… your waste is dust, you don't even piss anymore. Your eyes feel like stones in sand. Your skin cracks and weeps and you feel like your breathing your own throat out in clumps… like a snake shedding its skin from the inside out. The headaches make it worse… they sit behind your eyes, drills in your head, constantly burrowing inside your mind, making you feel like your eyes are going to fall out of your face. Your teeth… they start to feel like tombstones, little tombstones, covered in grit and scum… soon even the smallest, greenest puddle looks appetising. But you don't drink it… no it'll make you sick. That's what you tell yourself for the first few weeks. Then it's 'only if I get desperate, only at the very edge of sanity'… and then you get desperate. By the next week you're gobbling up those puddles like they was precious springs, unspoiled and undiscovered. Your mind is so far gone it doesn't even think about the taste, can't even feel the clumps of dirt and God knows what else… all it knows is 'water… beautiful water'. Then the sickness sinks in, the radiation sickness. Soon you're throwing your guts up, all that liquid gone and you're getting sicker and sicker, a cold or flu. If you've really gulped down a lot you'll get cramps, you'll starve but won't eat. Most of the doctors out here can treat you at that point… they've got something called RadAway. They plug it in you and you pass all the shit out of your system, literally, and it takes the rads with it. Problem is if you have to get it done too many times you'll start losing your hair… of course if you don't get it done that'll happen anyway. They'll charge you for this, it's difficult to come across and even harder to make… but most will take pity on you if you're almost at death's door and beg them long enough… but if they think you're far too gone they're also just as likely to put a bullet through your head and call it mercy. They'd be right to call it that. I've gotten RadAway five times and it left me feeling like a smudge of dirt underneath a Brahmin's hoof. Two of those times were pity saves and I've been grateful for both those saves. One day though the wasteland is going to present me with an unsolvable problem: no caps and no mercy. That'll be the end of me," he turned his head and looked at Tom, his face solemn, "Take it from a thirty year old who looks like a fifty year old: don't spend your caps on booze or luxuries or anything like that. Spend them on bullets and water. Purified water, because it is out there. The Brass Lantern even has its own little purifier, but the water goes for a high price. Not too high if you consider it a payment on your life. Every bottle of water is another deposit. You could probably live two weeks on one bottle. It'll taste warm and stale by the end of those two weeks… but you can go another month after that without absolutely needing another drop. And whatever you do, kid, do not break that barrier… don't drink the puddle. Because once you do it once, the next time is so much easier… and then it becomes a habit. Then you get sick. Don't get sick, kid, cos you'll never get better. Ever."<p>

Tom looked into that man's eyes, weary and dry, and shook his head, "I won't… thank you."

The man nodded, "I don't know what it is kid… but I see a survivor underneath that little strip of puppy fat and well cared for skin… and white teeth," he grinned, "Just don't trust them out there… everyone's got a gun in there hand."

Tom nodded, "Again thank you for the advice… and nightmares if you don't mind me saying."

This time the man didn't laugh. He looked Tom right in the eye and said, "Those are your dreams kid…" he turned his head and nodded it out past the walls of Megaton, "The nightmares are out there."

They spoke a little while longer and Tom found the man's name was Willis. They swapped stories, Tom told him about his life in the vault and the event that disrupted it and Willis told him about his family. They had lived in a small ranch in the shadow of a mountain, mostly hidden from the rest of the wasteland. Eventually, however, raiders found them and lay siege to them. Willis' older brother was lost in the defense of their ranch and his father mortally wounded. It was him, his mother, his little sister and little brother shooting through the windows, tears still running down their cheeks for their brother and son, for their father and husband.

And then the raiders had stopped shooting.

"We'd thought he was just a myth, a legend for those with no hope," Willis had said, "But that day he found us, a revolver in his hand, and shot down thirteen raiders with it. We watched in awe as he pumped bullet after bullet into them, never taking more than one bullet to take out a raider. Soon our front yard was a mess of blood, bone and brain. After he was finished he looked to us, tipped his hat and left, a hero in the wind."

"Who?" Tom had asked, totally wrapped in the story.

Willis smiled, "The wasteland calls him… The Mysterious Stranger."


	8. Chapter 7

7

When Tom woke the next morning he rolled over and found that his friend Willis was gone. The air was humid and as Tom stumbled out from underneath the house his vision and body were assaulted by the bright light and heat of the sun. He held a hand up in front of his eyes as he slowly started to remember what it was he had been planning to do today… and when it finally hit him his stomach lurched. It was then that he realised he had left the vault with a handful of weapons and had woken up in Megaton with nothing. He needed to know if any of his stuff had been recovered. If not he feared he'd be searching the ruins of Springvale for his gun with his back to the wasteland: an unappealing concept.

He found his way back to the clinic and knocked on the door.

"What!" Church's voice came out muffled from the clinic.

"Uh," Tom hesitated, "I've got to ask you something-"

"Don't shout through the door this early in the morning," Church interrupted him, "Open the door and ask me what you want. Or does your arm hurt?"

Tom blinked his surprise away and opened the door to the clinic. He stepped into the uncomfortably warm room, feeling the sweat form on his brow, and saw the Doc leaning over a table with chemicals in glasses, some boiling and some stagnant.

Tom's interest was immediately peaked, "What are you doing?"  
>"Mowing the lawn," Doc snapped, "What does it look like I'm doing, kid, I'm making up chems! If I don't make RadAway, Rad-X, anesthesia and all the other sections of the drug pyramid how else am I supposed to treat people: hug them and listen to their problems?"<p>

Tom decided that Doc Church was never going to be in any good humour and put aside any plans he had to try and get on his good side; it seemed the man's bed didn't have a right side to roll out of.

"When I was brought in the other day, did I have anything on me, like a pistol or bullets?"

Church nodded, "Yeah Simms brought your stuff with you and asked me where to put it and I said I didn't give a shit because I was too busy making sure you didn't die. I found it in a corner later and put it all in my drawer. I was wondering how long it would take you to realise you were unarmed and in the wasteland."

"Okay do you mind if I get it from your desk."  
>"Fine, but if I think anything's missing you're going to wake up under that house tomorrow with a scalpel in your eye and a blunt one too… not going to waste a good sharp one on you."<p>

Tom nodded, "Thank you." He opened the drawer in Church's desk and found the pistol and a full magazine. He took them out and pocketed them, checking the safety was off. He also found his tin of BB pellets and the BB gun standing up against the wall.

"I had no idea you were a dirt hunter," Church muttered.

Tom paused, confused, "What do you mean?"

"Well dirt is all you're going to hit with that piece of shit. Even if you hit something with it, it won't make a difference unless you get them in the eye… and even then most things out here got tough eyes… and some have more than two."

Tom wasn't sure what to say, but glanced down at the BB gun in his hands.

Church sighed, "Let me give you a little…somewhat friendly advice. Carry only what you need, and what will help you. That BB gun is dead weight, no matter where it came from. Ain't no room for memories on the road."

Tom nodded solemnly, looking down at his most prized childhood possession. He'd had it for nine years, almost half his life. And now he was being told that it was useless, that it was dead weight. He knew he should have put it down right then and there. He should have turned his back on that half-sized, air powered pellet shooter, turned his back on what it was… his last scrap of the vault. He wasn't in the vault anymore. He would have to learn to stomp on radroaches and save his bullets for bigger fish, for sharks.

He couldn't.

"I appreciate the advice," Tom said, gazing down at the little weapon… the toy, "I really do. But I can't."

Church sighed again, "Well then let's hope someone doesn't have to pry it from your cold dead fingers. You're out here for a reason kid, I can see that. Don't fuck it up because of misplaced sentiment."

_You're out here for a reason…_

Church's words echoed in Tom's mind as he stepped past what he had thought was a figment of his imagination, the large robot, with its electronic voice, "_Come… back… soon… partner._" It raised a stiff arm and waved to him as he stepped down the slope away from the front gates of Megaton.

At first he didn't notice it, lost in his own thoughts, but soon he found himself confronted with a monstrous creature, twice his size, with six legs and a huge pair of pincers for a mouth.

Tom jumped back as he spotted it, not more than a few meters away from him. He cried out and drew his pistol and almost let off a round… before he realised what it really was.

The giant ant, a corporeal nightmare, lay on its back, still, with its crooked legs sticking in the air and its carapace broken in several places. Its dead black eyes, beads amongst the contorted red head stared through him.

Tom realised his foolishness, having jumped at a corpse, and sheepishly holstered the pistol. He heard a snicker and turned to see the man Simms had mentioned, Stockholm, leaning on the balcony, looking at him.

Tom waved, not holding the snicker against him: the man had been partly responsible for saving his life. He received a two fingered salute in response.

Tom turned and started back down the path, giving the dead ant a wide berth.

As he walked he felt his pulse gradually rise. The wind whistling overhead and his feet crunching on the ground contrasted eerily with the otherwise silent wastes. Using the map on his Pip-Boy he eventually found his way back into Springvale, stumbling down the hill and into the ruined town.

He was on the main street that he'd been attacked on, and in the middle of it were brown stains… old blood. He wondered if the bodies were still there, or carried away by scavengers, human or otherwise.

The floating machine was still there, hovering along, unaware of its lack of audience. It was now transmitting a voice, instead of the strange music. Now a nasal voice issued from its speakers as it bobbed along, addressing everybody and nobody: "Good morning America… it's me, President John Henry Eden welcoming you to the world, as I do every day. Let's talk about government, shall we? Or more specifically, your government, dear America: The Enclave. Just who is the Enclave? Why, now that's simple, the Enclave is you, America. The Enclave is your sister, your aunt, your friend, your neighbor. And well yes, the Enclave is me as well," the unpleasant voice chuckled, pleased with its own wit, "As your president, it is my responsibility to preside over our great democracy. So, as your president, I am the voice, I am the heart, and soul of the Enclave. That is to say, I am the voice, heart, and soul of America. But only together, together, can we hope to reach our full potential. The way we were before the war. Whole. Beautiful. Powerful. One Enclave, One America. Now and Forever. And now, dearest America, we must say farewell. For there is much work to be done, and the Enclave never rests. Never."

With that the music resumed and the little machine kept on its repetitive path.

Tom began searching the town and quickly eliminating most of the buildings around as they were completely uninhabitable. As he walked along he began to hear a light fluttering noise. He tried to determine where it was coming from. Finally he came across an envelope, half inside a mailbox and half fluttering in the wind. He pulled it out, gently. The paper crackled with age as Tom handled it, opening it up and slipping out the yellowed pages within. It was a typed up letter that read:

Dear Safety-Conscious Citizen -

We are writing to inform you that your family was not selected for inclusion in your chosen Vault-Tec facility. Your deposit has been retained, and your application added to a waiting list for your preferred Vault. In the interest of your family's security in the event of a minor nuclear event, please consider relocating to one of these areas, where Vault-Tec facilities are available without a waiting list:

For a full list of Vault-Tec facilities with available accommodations, in exciting locales such as Oklahoma and newly-annexed Canada, contact your local Vault-Tec representative!

Vault-Tec wishes you and your family the best of luck in the uncertain future. Best regards;

Vault-Tec,

Public Relations Dept.

Washington, DC.

Tom looked somberly down at the letter, before letting it go. The wind quickly caught it and it was whisked away and Tom couldn't help but wonder if that's what the recipients of the letter had looked like when the bombs had landed… so much paper in the wind.

Tom followed the road North through Springvale, passing more and more derelict houses until he found the only building that could possibly be adopted long term.

It looked like a very small ranch house. The white picket fence was grimy and crooked, like the last few teeth in the mouth of a very old man. Its roof was sunken and there was a patio on its right that was crooked as well. He could see mounds of dirt with planks of wood and tires sticking out of them behind it to its right and a telegraph pole stood at its front left corner.

After standing and looking at the house for a good long time, still not sure what he was going in there to do, he stepped forward and tried the door knob. It turned with a rusty squeak and he stepped inside.

The house was dusty, warm and had an acrid smell to it, like the smell of chemicals. The first room he found himself was a small kitchen, extending to his right, an old hulking fridge next to an oven. The bench and stove were littered with old cans, syringes and other bits of junk.

Tom peered at one of the syringes for a moment, stepping closer. It looked improvised to him: three cylindrical containers alongside each other, connected by a couple of tubes and taped held together by browning gauze. The middle tube was the syringe, with the tubes from the other two containers plugged into it at the base of the needle. Tom couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what purpose it could serve.

He was very lucky to hear the floorboard creaking behind him… he was very stupid to not have drawn his weapon the second he spotted the house.

He spun around in time to throw himself backwards, head first, as a blonde woman with a long sharp piece of metal took a swing at him, nearly opening his throat. He stumbled back and she screeched as she swung again. He didn't jump back far enough this time and she drew a long shallow wound across his chest. The cut stung, but it wasn't debilitating; in fact it stirred his primal survival instincts. When she swung with the improvised blade again he caught her wrist and punched her hard in the face with a right hook. She stumbled back, but he didn't let go of her wrist, instead twisting it, trying to get her to drop her weapon.

Instead she let out a screech and twisted it so that the tip dug into his arm, just above his wrist, causing him to let go. She scurried into the next room and Tom drew the pistol, clicking off the safety.

She knocked a table over and leapt behind it. There was a moment where all he could hear was what sounded like a tin lockbox being opened. Then there was a sound which would from then on fill him with deep weariness.

Though Tom didn't recognise it, having never seen one, it was the cold mechanic whir of a revolver's chamber being spun. Then next thing he knew she had fired blind over the edge of the over turned table. The shot was deafening and a piece of the doorframe next to Tom's arm was obliterated. He jumped and threw himself out of the way, hiding behind the wall and shouting, "Hey, relax! I'm not here to fight!"

"Bullshit!" the woman, shouted back.

"I'm really not! Is your name Silver!"

"That depends! Who sent you?"

"So that's a yes then? Look I only crawled out of the vault three days ago! I'm not here to fight or kill or anything, so can you please hear me out?"

Silence followed by the sound of wood scraping on wood. Then Silver spoke again, "Drop your weapons on the ground in here, both of them."

Tom did as he was told, first sliding the pistol out into the room, then lowering the BB gun down by its strap in the doorway, so she could clearly see him doing it. Once it was down she said, "Come in here with your hands up."

Tom stepped into the room, hands in the air and saw the table was back on its legs and Silver was sitting at it, her revolver pointed at him, her eyes watching him carefully.

This second room was a little bigger than the first, a cabinet in the corner and a dirty mattress on the floor, which was littered with more of the strange syringes and old cans. Behind Silver was a door, which Tom guessed led back outside.

"Look at me the wrong way and I'll give you a new hole to whistle with," Silver muttered.

Tom nodded.

"Why are you here?"

Tom licked his lips, "I'm searching for my father. I tracked him, sort of, to Megaton and I was told to ask this guy Moriarty if he'd seen him. I spoke to him and he told me the only way he'll give me the information I need is if I pay him 100 caps… or come find you. He said you stole some stuff from him and he wanted it back."

"Did he tell you to kill me?"

Tom thought long and hard before answering, "I'm not here to kill you… but yes, that's what he told me to do."

He could see Silver physically tensing her arm, stopping herself from shooting him in the face right then and there. After a long moment she spoke again, "That bastard was going to just work me to death… I decided it was time someone screwed him over. Now all I want to do is sit here with his drugs and pump myself with them until I forget everything I ever did."  
>"What about the caps?" Tom asked.<p>

She shrugged, "I've got enough chems here to do what I want with them. And if halfway through them I decide life ain't worth killing myself over, the last half will sell for a pretty cap. But now we have a problem: if I let you go with nothing, you'll tell Moriarty I'm here and the last thing I want is to find that monster under my bed.

"I could kill you, but I've got a lot of faith in karma. You seem like a pretty decent kid, at least when you're unarmed. I don't particularly want to kill you. So what do we do… what did you say your name was?"

"Tom."  
>"Tom… what do we do?"<p>

After what seemed like an eternity Tom finally thought of something, "Decide you don't want to die… then decide you want to change your name and get as far from your past in Megaton as you can. How far can you get with what you've got?"

"I've got four hundred caps, and the chems I've got left could sell for that again in a heartbeat. It would only take a hundred to get me as far as Rivet City. From there I don't know where I'd go… but I certainly wouldn't stop there. Why, what's your idea?"

"Give me three hundred caps, and half of the 'chems' or whatever they're called. I go back to Moriarty and say I found you, dead on the floor with a syringe in your arm. I show him _two _hundred caps and the chems and tell him that's all that was left. You take the one hundred caps, sell the chems for another two hundred and get as far away as you can."

"That sounds awfully pricey, Tom. That's more than half of what I have."  
>"It's going to take that much to convince him I really found it all. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering if Moriarty is on your tail? Or do you want to spend it knowing Silver is dead and you're alive?"<p>

Silver thought about this for a moment. Finally she sighed, closed her eyes and eased the hammer back down on the gun. She put it away, "I think that's the best plan I've heard in a long time, Tom. How'd you get to be so smart?"

Tom opened his mouth to say, 'my dad's really smart', but it hurt too much. Instead he said, "Just lucky I guess."

Five minutes later they had two hundred caps and half of Silver's chems loaded into a tatty looking backpack that Silver was sure Moriarty would recognise as hers. They wrapped the last hundred in a line of cloth and strapped it to Tom's leg underneath his pants with two old belts with rusty buckles. They didn't want to arouse suspicion with a separate bag or rattling pockets.

Finally Silver had the last of her possessions loaded into an old shirt they found in the cabinet and tied to the end of a broom handle, which she slung over her shoulder.

They stood outside the dilapidated ranch house and exchanged a tentative hand shake.

"You've done me a big favour here kid," Silver said, "I won't forget it."

"You need to," Tom said, "Because you've never met me, Moriarty… I've got a feeling you've never even heard of Megaton. Remember, go North first, then East. Avoid Megaton."

Silver pressed her lips together in a smile, nodded and then turned, walking North.

Tom turned away and headed back towards Megaton beneath the high sun.


	9. Chapter 8

8.

Tom stood outside or Moriarty's saloon, psyching himself up for the encounter. He had to sell the story, had to _make _him believe Silver was dead. He tried to imagine walking into the ranch house, finding her body… but there'd be a stench too. Decomposition and infestation. She'd be getting eaten by bugs, maggots, flies… and she would be dried by the heat, shrunken, wrinkled… the stench would be…

Tom could feel his stomach lurching and knew that if he believed it anymore he would throw up. He pushed the door open and stumbled in.

The few patrons there looked around at him as Tom walked in, looking pale, sweaty and clutching a backpack that a few of them recognised. Nova in particular eyed it with suspicion.

Gob was tending the bar and Tom sat down in front of him.

"What'll it be?" Gob asked hesitantly, trying not to look at the backpack or directly into Tom's eyes.

Tom shook his head, "Tell Moriarty I'm here to see him, please Gob."

"No can do, kid. Moriarty's in his office and I knock on that door, he'll knock out my teeth… what's left of them anyway."

"Please, Gob, it's really important-"

"I'll do it, honey," Nova interrupted, "He won't do anything to me… blemishes make for poor sale."

She sauntered over and knocked on Moriarty's office door, behind the bar.

"What!" came his sharp Irish voice from within.

"The kid's here. He wants to talk to you," Nova answered back and stepped away from the door, giving Tom a quick look before making herself scarce.

There was a sharp click as the door unlocked and Moriarty pulled it open. He stuck his head out and spotted Tom. He beckoned him with two fingers.

Tom walked around the bar and into the cluttered office space. As he entered to the right was a little space where a set of metal shelves stood. To the left was another shelf, next to wardrobe and beyond that was a computer terminal, glowing in the darkness. And it was dark: Moriarty didn't seem to have lit even the smallest lamp for his office. The room was bathed in a sickly green glow from the blocky letters on the computer.

Moriarty closed the door behind him and walked past him, sitting in his chair, "What have you got for me boy?"

Tom wordlessly tossed the bag to him. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before opening it and looking inside. "Chems and caps," he muttered, "How much?"

Tom shook his head, "I don't know. I just scooped up what I could find."

"And what _did _you find, boy?" Moriarty asked, looking up from the bag.

_Here it is_, Tom thought to himself.

"If it was Silver in there then she was long dead, with a needle sticking out of her arm," Tom forced the images and sensations he had imagined before on himself again, "It smelt pretty bad and she… it looked old."

"Look like an overdose did it?"

Tom nodded, "That's what it looked like. I don't know what's valuable these days so I just grabbed all the caps I could find and anything with a needle. I found that bag by the door and stuffed it all in there."

"How do you know it was Silver?" Moriarty asked.

Tom shrugged, "I don't. But whoever it was left a lot of stuff behind… and I think they might have had blonde hair. I don't know if you ever even described her, but the body had blonde hair."

Moriarty nodded, "Aye, she was blonde. And this here backpack, this was hers as well. Sounds like you had the right girl… unless someone went to an awful lot of trouble to make it look like she OD'd. But then, nobody could be bothered wasting that kind of time out here," he placed the backpack to one side before looking back up at Tom, "Well it sounds like you did yourself a fine job lad. And a fine job deserves a fine reward."  
>Tom did his best not to react.<p>

"I'll make you a deal… I can tell you where your Daddy went and you can stumble blindly after him and get yourself killed… or you can take a hundred caps for your efforts, get some food and water into you, maybe buy another gun or at least some bullets, and come back and do another favour for yours truly to find your Dad. The choice is yours kid… caps or Dad?"

Tom already had one hundred caps and so almost spoke too soon, almost answering straight away with the desire to find out where his father went.

Instinct, however made him pause. It was a test, a very clever test.

_He wants to know if I've kept any caps to myself_, he realised, _he's testing how hard the choice will be._

Tom did spend a long time outwardly struggling with a decision, but the decision was what to tell Moriarty and how to tell him… luckily this struggle aided in his rouse.

Finally he decided to play Moriarty's game, "Fifty caps and you just give me a direction on the compass."

After a moment there was an extremely tense silence. Then a devilish smile slowly snaked its way across Moriarty's lips, "No deals, no compromise. Choose kid."

After another long think Tom finally thought of a viable excuse to turn down the caps, "I can't work for you again, Mr. Moriarty. I'm not… suitable for this line of work. I need those caps… but I need to find my father with my soul intact more."

"Not suitable, eh?" Moriarty said, "I see. Jump up and down, kid."

_He's still looking for caps. He wants to listen and see if he can hear them jingle._

Tom frowned and feigned confusion, "What?"

"Jump up and down kid or you won't get squat."

Tom sighed and finally began to jump, cumbersomely, praying that the caps strapped to his leg would make no noise. Finally after a long minute of jumping Moriarty held up his hand, "Stop," he said, "That's enough. Your father passed through here just a few hours before they hauled your sorry carcass in. He didn't stop long, not even for a drink. Just asked a few quick questions about the safest roads to DC. Mentioned something about Galaxy News Radio, that nonsense that Gob and Nova like so much. My money would be there, in DC, East of here. That's all I can and would give you. Now if our business is done I'll ask you to get out of my office."

Tom nodded, murmured, "Thank you," and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He walked around and sat at the bar.

DC. Washington DC.

He didn't even know how to begin this journey, and already he'd blundered onto the path, guided by no more than fate and well-disguised luck.

He sat, feeling exhausted and stared down at the bar table.

Finally Gob came around, rubbing the bar down with his disgusting cloth, absent mindedly, "You look worried, kid," he rasped, "Moriarty threaten you with an enema?"

Tom shook his head, "No… I got that information I was looking for, but now I don't know how to follow it. Have you ever been to DC?"

Gob nodded, "Sure, that's where I'm from, originally, in the Underworld. Why?"

"I've gotta find a place… Galaxy News Radio. Does that ring a bell?"

Gob laughed, "It's a radio station based in DC. I've been yelling at the radio for over a month now because it's all shot to shit and I can't listen to the radio station anymore. Nova thinks it's the signal."

"What is it, though?"

Gob thought for a moment before answering, "It's the closest the capital wasteland has to entertainment out here. The host calls himself Three Dog and he talks about 'fighting the good fight' and gives advice on how to survive out here. Sometimes he plays pre-war music. He's one of the two major radio stations playing out here, the other being the enclave."

Tom looked up sharply, "Hey I've heard of that. The little floating robot down in Springvale was playing something about that."  
>"That's an enclave eyebot. Be careful around them, they're not always so neutral. Only reason that one didn't shoot you is cos it's bad to laser potential new listeners."<p>

"What is the enclave?"

Gob sighed, "Look, you probably realise by now that there's a lot of bad guys out there? Well the enclave are the most organised bad guys. They're the last remnants of the American government and they've been trying for years to gain control of the wasteland and restore balance under the 'presidents' command. But the wild is the wild, and you can't convince ghouls, raiders and monsters to listen to legislation. But really their biggest threat is the Brotherhood."

Tom looked at him quizzically.

Gob sighed again, "What am I, an encyclopedia? The Brotherhood of Steel are the most organised good guys. They're all over the country and right now they have an HQ set up in the DC ruins somewhere. They've got some pretty heavy firepower, mostly old tech from the war, but they sure as shit know how to use it. I saw them in a fight once before I left DC. They got ambushed by some of my feral brethren… well it was a short but educational fight. The Brotherhood absolutely decimated them and would have decimated me too when they found me cowering behind a car if I hadn't instantly started reciting the alphabet." Gob smiled and Tom laughed, though he wasn't entirely sure it was a joke.

"But in answer to your original question," Gob said, "Galaxy News Radio is a radio station."

"Do you know where it is?"

Gob nodded, "I passed it on my way out of DC. Pretty heavily defended; lots of guys with itchy trigger fingers."

"Do you think, maybe, you could mark it on a map?" Tom asked eagerly.

Gob shrugged, "Yeah, probably."

Tom opened up the map on his Pip-Boy and leaned over the bar to show Gob, "Just press on the spot you think it is."

Gob bent over the Pip-Boy for a moment, his scabby, rotting finger outstretched as he murmured to himself, debating where he thought the radio station might have been. Finally he made a decision, the moment vocally marked by a throaty grunt as he stabbed his finger forward and pressed a spot on the map. It beeped accordingly.

"There," he said, "I'm almost certain that if you head towards that area you're bound to find the station."

"Great," Tom said, "How far is it to DC?"

"Maybe a couple of days walk from here… few more if you're unlucky. Wait… you're not thinking of walking that distance, are you?"

Tom nodded, "I have to; that's where my father went."

"Tom listen to me," Gob said, "The road to DC is full of shit that'll kill you without even knowing your there first. You haven't even been out of your cosy little vault for a week. You're not ready for a journey like this, not in that direction. You've got to wait, get yourself some experience before you go leaping into the belly of the beast."

Tom looked up at Gob for a long time.

Gob spoke again, "If you ever want to see your Dad again, kid then wait. Wait for the moment you're ready to take on the biggest baddest shit there is. Don't run out there, die and never see him again."

Little did either of them know that an employee of one of the biggest and baddest had just stepped into Megaton in his white loafers. His suit was custom fitted, white and pinstriped, with a grey tie and a very well-to-do hat, which itself was a little too dusty for his taste.

Taking off his glasses the man looked with distaste upon the little town.

Mr. Burke had arrived.


	10. Chapter 9

9.

Tom left the saloon momentarily to go use the public restrooms. He found them unnerving, as they had a nasty habit of shifting when hit by the wind, which made for a very restless few minutes.

Meanwhile the man in white made his way up the scaffolding that ringed Megaton's center towards the saloon. He wrinkled his nose at the stench that seemed to envelop the entire crater and his lip curled at the sound of its inhabitants scurrying about below, carrying on with their pathetic lives and their pathetic tasks. His feet made the smallest noises on the metal walkways, making him as silent as a specter. He did not, however, dodge the notice of Simms, who eyed him from below with shrewd eyes. Trouble came in all shapes and sizes in the wasteland and the most worrying shape was a well-tailored suit. Very few people had that kind of wealth in the wasteland and even fewer of them came by it through legitimate means.

Mr. Burke found his way to the front of Moriarty's Saloon and stood for a moment, dreading stepping inside. But it was his job: step down from the tower, seek out the ideal employee… employ them and get out.

Burke sighed and pushed the door open, stepping into the putrid den.

Tom stepped into the saloon not long after Burke had approached the bar and he immediately noticed the man in the white suit, as Gob approached him wearily, wiping out a glass with his cloth, "What'll it be?" he rasped.

The man turned his head away from taking in the sight of the saloon/motel to look at Gob and his response was cold, making the flesh of all those who heard it crawl. It was smooth and seductive, in its own way, and it was low, as though every word he spoke were an intimate secret… but the chill was unmistakable, "I will have nothing served by a corpse and if you address me again or look me in the eye I will have you put down like the retarded abomination you are."

Every spine stiffened and even a few trigger fingers twitched.

Burke noticed Nova rearranging some shelves behind Gob and smiled, giving the impression of a greedy lizard whose speed and claws are hidden by a deceiving veil of sluggishness, "I'll have whatever she's serving however."

Nova responded with a cold look, "Gob's the bartender. Don't like it, drink somewhere else."

"And what if a drink wasn't what I had in mind?" Burke murmured, still smiling, "I'm sure you could offer something worth a small price… sullied though you most certainly are."

Tom couldn't help himself. He stepped forward loudly, "Now that wasn't very polite."

Nova looked over to him and Gob looked down at his glass.

Burke turned very slowly and considered Tom for a moment, looking him up and down, taking in the pistol at his side and the small shine still left in his hair, before responding, "Manners are reserved for a higher class."

The tension in the air was almost physical and not a single person dared move for shattering the delicate balance that remained.

Finally Burke turned back to Gob, "Have her fix me a scotch and a glass of clean water. If there's any dispute over whether or not this is within her duties then I will be more than happy to discuss it with the owner of this establishment. Moriarty is it?"

Gob seemed at a total loss as to what to say, but thankfully Burke spared him the struggle of producing a response. He walked away and sat in a corner of the 'lounge' area that consisted of two round patio tables and a handful of chairs. He sat in the corner facing the door and lit an unwrinkled cigarette, puffing away slowly, the embers at the tip glowing red in the shadow he had chosen.

Tom eyed him for a moment and then sat at the bar while Nova complied with his request. He leaned forward and spoke quietly to Gob, "You okay?"

Gob waved a hand, "Yeah, it's not the first time some well-to-so smoothskin has threatened me and it surely won't be the last."

Nova but the two glasses on a round tray and carried it around the bar and over to Burke, placing them down by the ash tray on the table. Just as she turned to leave his hand caught her wrist. His voice alone had seemed like poison but his grip was cold steel… his skin was literally cold to the touch and it sent shivers up Nova's spine.

She spun around, ready to whip the small thin blade hidden out from her sleeve and plunge it in his eye if she had to. In fact if it weren't for the ice she found in Burke's eyes she would most likely have not paused at all, but that gaze trapped her and hypnotised her with fear.

Instead she just stared down at him, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

Burke smiled and then nodded at Tom, whom was still talking quietly with Gob, "That boy… who is he?"

Nova stuttered a moment before answering, and her voice wavered with fear, "Uh, he's just a kid from the vault in Springvale. He hasn't… hasn't been out more than a week."

"And his name would be?"  
>"T-tom."<p>

Burke nodded and let Nova's wrist go… leaving an ugly purple bruise behind. It wouldn't fade for a fortnight.

Nova did her best to calmly and slowly walk away, not wanting to cause any alarm or worse: reveal that she had been rattled. She simply went behind the bar, put away the tray and went upstairs under the pretense of maid duties… and found an empty room to lock herself in and quietly sob, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed. She had seen that icy look once before, long ago when she was a young girl. One might have even suggested it was the look that broke her down and allowed her to become a commodity for Moriarty, and all the men before him, since she was thirteen.

Back downstairs Tom finished his conversation with Gob and turned to leave, intending to have a look at the bomb.

A hiss from the corner caught his attention before he could leave, however, "Psst."

Tom turned. It was the man in white, his face subtly obscured by cigarette smoke, smoke that was lit by hot light coming in through the cracks in the tin walls.

Tom walked over to him, slowly, "If you have more lectures on how to treat the lower class of people-" he began but the man cut him off.

"I do apologise for that ugly bout of rudeness. As it is I am very much pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr.?" He stood and leaned forward through the haze of smoke and offered his hand.

Tom frowned, weary, but took his hand and answered, "Williams. Tom Williams. You are?"

"My name is Mr. Burke and you are not, as I understand it, a resident of this putrid cesspool… and that makes you a very valuable individual, Mr. Williams."

Tom felt uncomfortable with the way Burke spoke his name… like he was slicking him up with oil, while holding a pack of matches behind his back.

"And how is my residency related to my value, Mr. Burke?"

"My employer considers this town to be a blight upon the map, a blockade in the way of progress. He has sent me here to commission a very special individual to… cleanse the area of its presence."

Tom sat down and looked at Burke through the haze, "You're asking me," he said in a low voice, "to destroy this town… and the inhabitants with it. Why would I do that… if it weren't for this town I'd be a raider's chew toy right now."

"You're obviously out here for a reason, Mr. Williams. I happen to know you come from Vault 101. What drew you from that safe little hole in the ground, I wonder, Mr. Williams. I would imagine you're searching for something…" Burke caught the miniscule reaction Tom showed to his words, "… or someone." He leaned forward, hands together, "If you were to enter into this contract you would find yourself handsomely rewarded with something much more valuable than loyalty or friends. You would be rewarded with a great deal of wealth… and the gratitude of the tower in the South: Tenpenny tower. You would have resources beyond comprehension at your fingertips… it would be a simple matter of finding your lost... person and a simple matter of getting to them, escorted by professional mercenaries or armed to the teeth with weapons from the tower's own private stock, if you prefer to travel alone. You would never struggle again, Mr. Williams. All it would take to have all of that… is to attach one little fusion pulse charge to one little bomb in one little feces-ridden town. I see a man behind those boyish looks, behind the puppy fat that still clings to your body… a man who can get things done. Are you the man I'm looking for, Mr. Williams?" Burke gazed over into Tom's eyes.

Tom thought for a long moment. He even humoured, in his mind, the idea of the power he could have, the ease with which he could find his father… but the destruction of a town, of innocent lives; it would be the wrong means for the right end.

He sighed, "Mr. Burke that is an extremely tempting offer, and I must admit that you almost had me convinced… but I'm afraid I must decline."

The corner of Burke's mouth twitched, momentarily making him seem like some sort of grotesque gargoyle… but it was just a mere flash, "I am sorry to hear that Mr. Williams. Then our business is at an end. Should you change your mind, decide that the offer is worthy of your… convictions; don't hesitate to find me: unless of course I find someone else," he tipped his hat stiffly, "Good day."

Tom nodded back, "You too." He could feel Burke's eyes on his back like knives as he left the saloon. He wanted to run the moment he was clear of Burke's sight but he knew the metal walkway would amplify the sound and he didn't want to give Burke any reason to move from his corner. The moment he was off the walkway and on the dirt, however, he broke into a run, not following the pathways, instead ducking under and jumping over the scaffolding that held the buildings steady up off of the crater's edge. He crossed through the middle of Megaton, passing the center, the bomb

…_one little fusion pulse charge…_

and running up the other side of the crater, a stitch burning in his side. Finally he found himself at the top, huffing and puffing at Simms' feet.

Simms, for his part, immediately clicked to the urgent nature of Tom's hyperventilation, "What's going on kid? Problem in the saloon?"

Tom stood up straight, gulped in a huge breath of air and spoke, calming himself down as he went, "There's a guy named Burke in the saloon. He just asked me to attach a charge to the bomb and set it off. He's looking for someone to blow up Megaton."

Simms immediately leapt into action, "Come with me kid. You're about to experience some wasteland justice, first hand."

Tom followed after him, watching as he swung the rifle into his hands. The two walked quickly to the saloon, drawing the looks of several of the Megaton residents. As they walked Tom pressed a latch and let the empty magazine slide out of his pistol, placing it in his pocket as he slid the full one into the gun, clicking it home and switching off the safety.

Simms did not slow down for the door to the saloon: he kicked it in.

"Burke! Trying to blow up the town? Are you out of your goddamn mind!" he shouted, immediately locating Burke in the corner, whom didn't even flinch at the violent entrance. Every other head, on the other hand, turned violently. Several people let themselves out.

Tom moved around so that Burke was cornered, with Simms facing him and Tom standing on his left.

"Sheriff Simms, there must be some mistake. A dreadful rumour seems to have reached your ears, an issue I plan to attend to," he shot a look at Tom, "swiftly and personally."

"That's enough out of you," Simms growled, "You're under arrest until I sort this out. You're coming with me."

"Very well," Burke muttered, his business men demeanor lowered, but not entirely dropped, "Lead the way sheriff."

Sheriff Lucas Simms would wonder, for the rest of his life, why he turned at that moment. He would wonder what possessed him at that moment to break one of the biggest rules in the wasteland: Don't show your enemy your back.

Whatever the reason, Simms did turn his back, intending to 'lead the way' as Burke had suggested.

Burke's hand was immediately reaching into his coat, his cold eyes fixed on the back of Simms' head.

Tom could see it and the world seemed to slow down as he threw himself forward. He wasn't fast enough to stop the gun, but he was fast enough to knock the shot off course.

He was able to see that the gun Burke drew was the same as his own, only much shinier, polished even, and with a long silencer attached to the end. Tom collided with Burke as he cried out and the gun went off, emitting a muted cough. A bloody hole burst from the back of Simms shoulder, close to the neck, and he fell forward, dropping his gun with a violent groan.

Burke brought the butt of his gun down on Tom's head and he stumbled backwards, drawing his own and firing off two rounds.

Burke threw himself aside, two holes appearing in the tin wall.

The saloon erupted with the sound of bar stools scraping on the floor and people hitting the deck as Burke backed into the main entryway. He fired off two rounds of his own, one busting a lamp above Tom's head, the other grazing his left arm. Tom cried out, the pain momentarily shaking him. He stretched his right arm and fired, his own gun making a much louder sound in the room.

Burke jerked to the right as the bullet hit him in the shoulder. He fell to the ground next to wear Simms was still groaning and bleeding, possibly from the neck, and for a moment Tom imagined that he might have actually won.

But Burke was as quick as a snake and collected the injured Simms up in a headlock, his arm around his neck, the white becoming stained with red, and pressed the muzzle of the gun against his temple.

"NOBODY MOVE!" he shouted, "Or the sheriff's wife becomes a widow."  
>Tom's gun was already aiming for Burke's head, shaking but determined.<p>

Burke grinned and Tom saw his real face, his ugly soul-sucking face, the face of a monstrosity of a man, "Who's quicker, do you think, Mr. Williams?"

"Just shoot the bastard," Simms said through a choked voice. Burke jerked his arm, strangling him further.

"Hush, sheriff, hush," he cooed, "It'll all be over soon."

"Get your slimy paws off me," Simms hissed. Blood now caked his neck and jaw, as well as soaking Burke's sleeve.

Burke pulled him to his feet and kicked the saloon door open behind him, startling a young blonde woman whose hand had just been on the handle. She jumped and stepped away, trying to assert what was going on. Burke continued to back out slowly, the gun pressed tightly to Simms' temple. Tom followed him out, his gun still trained on him. Burke continued to back away until he was up against the railing.

"What's the matter," Simms asked, his voice a little fainter, "Run out of space to scurry?"

Burke chuckled, "You under estimate my ability, Sheriff."

Just at that moment he tightened his arm as hard as he could, pushing Simms to the brink of unconsciousness, while taking the gun from his temple, whipping it around with incredible speed and firing at the terrified woman by the door. Blood spattered out on the wall behind her and she cried out, falling to the ground, clutching her wrist as blood welled up around it.

Tom spun around to see who'd been shot and Burke pushed hard, throwing Simms at him, knocking them both down.

Burke then vaulted himself over the railing in what appeared to be a suicidal jump. He hit the platform below and he let himself fall into a tight roll, which absorbed the impact of the hit. He kept running and leapt over the next railing, crashing onto a roof with a loud clatter, continuing to roll and jump down several more roofs until he landed on the ground with a thud, seemingly unharmed. He wasted no time in powering up the hill and out through the gates of megaton, leaving behind several confused Megaton residents. In the distance Stockholm's rifle could be heard, each crack like the sound of a whip. However after watching the man perform the maneuvers he had just done, nobody had much hope that he would just be picked off.

Tom, with the aid of Nova, helped Simms and the girl, Lucy West, down to the clinic where Church immediately sanitised their wounds and checked the seriousness. He didn't even glance at the cut on Tom's arm.

"You're both extremely lucky," he said to Lucy and Simms after stitching up their wounds… and after Simms had downed a quarter of a bottle of whiskey, "The wounds went straight through both of you. Simms yours was a closer call, but nothing vital was hit. But you're going to have to deputise somebody if you plan on getting in to any more shootouts."

Simms looked at Tom but said nothing.

Once Church was finished with them he went back to his desk and Simms and Tom were able to speak privately. Stockholm had come down and confirmed what they had already figured: Burke had gotten away, taking cover amongst the rocks and crevices.

Simms took a long swig from the whiskey bottle, "I must be getting slow in my old age," he muttered, "You saved my ass back there kid. He was going to put two in my brain without even blinking. Thank you."

Tom nodded, "I guess we're even."

Simms nodded, "I guess we are. Equal too."

The two were silent for a long time… then Tom spoke again, "We just made a very dangerous enemy back there, didn't we?"

Simms nodded, "I reckon we did. But so long as you're in my town, no one's going to touch you."

"And when I leave?"

Simms shrugged and then grimaced at the pain, "You seem to have a knack for your handling yourself. I think you'll do okay."

"I guess there's only one thing left to do about this right now," Tom said.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Simms asked.

Tom stood in the puddle of water at the base of nuclear bomb, all too aware of the Geiger counter in his Pip-Boy ticking away.

He was dwarfed by the huge looming weapon, which stuck out of the ground at an angle, its tail in the air.

He had found a small panel in the hull that could be removed with a screwdriver and had borrowed a toolbox from the clinic. He unscrewed the panel and found himself facing something eerily familiar.

The circuitry and wires were almost identical to the models of the control boards they'd been told to study in class: control boards for the nuclear power station that powered the entire vault. The vault technician, Stanley, had taught the class. Tom remembered enjoying it.

He also remembered Stanley warning them…

_Now if these wires were ever severed or damaged, the whole machine would fail and the vault would be without electricity. Just these three wires. That's all it would take._

Right now Tom was faced with a whole mess of wires… which three were they?

He sweated a long time, a pair of wire cutters in his hand, staring at the wires.

Those people Simms had said worshipped the bomb had objected when he stepped into the pool, but Simms' rifle and Nova's strong words had silenced them. They had eventually left.

Tom worked his mind hard, trying to recall as much as he could… first he was thirty percent sure… then fifty… then seventy… then ninety…

Finally he made a decision.

He chose three wires and cut them at the same time. The cutters clicked together sharply.

He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sign that he was wrong… but it didn't come. Finally he breathed again and the feeling came back to his arms as his legs suddenly became jelly. He screwed the panel back on and stumbled away from the bomb, sighing loudly.

"Well shit kid. You're some kind of something," Simms said, regarding him with a very considered admiration.

"It's certainly been a big day for him," Nova purred.

Tom collapsed onto his bottom at the edge of the pool, keeping himself out of it as best he could.

Simms dug into his pocket and pulled a piece of paper from his inside pocket, along with a small pouch. He handed them to Tom.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Well the pouch," Simms said, "Is your payment of two hundred caps. The paper is the deed to your new house… here in Megaton." He held out a key, "Why don't you go take a look?"


	11. Chapter 10

10.

The house was fairly large and stood on long thin stilts against the Northern wall of Megaton. Nova had returned to the saloon to clean up after the shootout, but Simms had gone up with Tom to the house. Tom slid the key into the lock, not believing what was going on. Before he turned it he looked over to Simms and opened his mouth to speak, but Simms cut him off, "You saved my town and everyone in it, which means you saved me personally _twice_. The least we could do is give you an alternative to sleeping on the ground under someone's floor. Now open the damn thing up, will you."

Tom smiled and turned the key. The door clicked and he turned the knob swinging the door open. It creaked but it worked. He stepped into the cool, dark space. It was pretty much the same layout as Simms' own house, with a few less items in the furniture department. As he stepped further into the living room he slowly began to come to grips with the fact that it was _his_… he owned a house.

As Tom looked around Simms spoke, "You've only got the one electric light, for this room here. You'll need oil lamps or a torch for the rest of the house… though I've got a feeling you'll have something like that on your little wrist gizmo." He flicked the switch, which sat on the wall next to the door, and the room was bathed in warm, slightly yellow light.

A figure that Tom hadn't noticed before suddenly rose from the ground in the corner. After a moment Tom recognised it as a Mr. Handy machine, much like Andy from the vault.

The Mr. Handy moved towards them, its eyes considering them, twitching mechanically from side to side, before it began to speak. It sounded exactly like Andy, with a crisp English accent and a jolly voice, "Good day sir! My name is Wadsworth and I am here to keep your home looking fresh and clean. How can I be of assistance?"

Tom turned to look at Simms, his eyebrows raised, "Please tell me he's part of the deed?"

Simms nodded, "He is. Now I've gotta get a move on. Make yourself at home, Wadsworth here will pretty much do anything you ask him do, so long as he _can_. See you, kid."

The two shook hands and Simms left, closing the door behind him.

Tom turned back to Wadsworth, whom was still floating in front of him, benign and friendly, "My sensors indicate that you are dehydrated. Would you like some water?" he asked.  
>Tom could feel his mouth aching for just a small drop of liquid, but he didn't dare hope, "Is it clean water?"<br>"Of course, Sir!" Wadsworth assured him with exuberance, "My filtration unit is state-of-the-art."

Tom breathed a heavy sigh of relief, "Then I would love some water, Wadsworth, thank you."

"At once, Sir."

Wadsworth immediately busied himself in finding a glass amongst the cluttered shelves that seemed to be filled with miscellaneous junk.

Tom looked around his tin home, marveling at the sheer size. Everything in the wasteland was so much bigger than it was in the vault… so much so that he felt a gnawing feeling of claustrophobia when he cast his thoughts back to his old underground home.

Wadsworth found a glass and lifted it to his ventilator and 'blew' on it, exhaling a gust of air and blowing away most of the dust. He then held one of his arms over the glass and a stream of dazzlingly clear and cool water splashed into the glass, streaming from a nozzle at the end of his arm. The sound of the glass being filled almost brought Tom to tears, a cool gushing noise.

Wadsworth extended his arm and held the glass out to Tom, "Here you are, sir."

Tom reached out, almost hesitantly, and took the glass from Wadsworth, mumbling a dazed, "Thanks."

The glass was cool in his hands… a sensation he hadn't felt in some time.

He gently rose the glass to his lips… pressed the now cool glass to them… then he tilted the glass and opened his mouth, letting the cool, clean water quench his thirst. It felt like a flood flowing into a burning valley, extinguishing a raging forest fire and sending waves of steam into the air, leaving a haze over the world…

Tom could feel tears filling his eyes, tears not of any emotion, but of sheer relief, of sheer pleasure as he felt the crisp, clean water rejuvenate his mouth, throat, body, mind, soul…

Wadsworth watched all of this with his curious but respectful eye, waiting obediently for further direction.

Tom finished the glass in one long draught and in doing so left himself breathless and panting as he held out the glass, "Another, please Wadsworth."

Wadsworth obliged, but as he filled it he spoke, "Though I am happy to aid in your return to health, I must advise you not to get yourself waterlogged, sir. You might end up in a great deal of discomfort."

Tom almost ignored his comment, practically snatching the glass from his outstretched mechanical hand, but the words made him pause a moment and he decided to sit at the table in the middle of the room before drinking the second glass.

He spent five minutes nursing the second glass, taking the occasional sip and imagining the water simply soaking into his dry body, bringing life back to his dry and dusty bones and crackling muscles. He was amazed by how much a few days of dehydration had drained him… Willis had spoken of weeks. Tom doubted he would have ever lasted weeks. The sun was so hot…

After finishing the second glass Tom thanked Wadsworth and handed him the glass. Wadsworth placed it back on the dusty shelf, remarking that now somebody was living in it, the house might need a little cleaning.

Tom nodded, "If you could do that Wadsworth that would be great." His mind was far off though. He was wondering about his father… where was he? Was he okay, out in this wild wasteland.

Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to throw their comfortable little world into such chaos? What could he possibly have thought was out here?

Tom jumped as a sharp knock on the door woke him. He had dozed off, falling asleep with his head on his arms, hunched over the table. A second knock on the door drove him to stand up and rub his eyes. He could hear Wadsworth bustling around upstairs.

Tom stumbled over to the door and opened it, the light at first blinding him after his snooze. Once his vision adjusted, however, he found that his visitor was none other than the girl whom Burke had shot outside the saloon.

"Hi," Tom said, "Lucy is it?"  
>The woman nodded, "Lucy West, hi. Your name is Thomas?"<p>

Tom nodded back, "What can I do for you?" Her wrist was bound tightly in bandages and her arm was in a sling. Her blonde hair was tied back tightly, exposing her slightly angular, but beautiful face.

"Well I've got a kind… I know you're kind of new out here and that you've got your own stuff going on but," she sighed, "I need help. See I'm from a settlement not far North of here, where my family lives and I haven't heard from them in a while. I was actually planning on leaving tomorrow to visit them and see if everything's okay but then, well," she lifted her wrist and nodded to it, "I wouldn't be able to defend myself against a fly with this. Normally I'd just wait to heal and go then… but I've got a really bad feeling that something terrible has happened." As Lucy finished speaking Tom saw the fear rise in her eyes for just a moment before settling back down.

Tom nodded, "When was the last time you heard from your family?"

"About three months ago. Look I can't pay much, maybe fifty caps, but no one else will do anything. I just need somebody to take a letter up to the settlement, Arefu. It wouldn't take more than four days all up to get there and come back. I'm desperate… please help me?"

Tom considered it. He remember what Gob had told him.

_You've got to wait, get yourself some experience before you go leaping into the belly of the beast._

Maybe this was the sort of thing that would give him some experience out in the wasteland… the sort of thing that could prepare him for what was out there.

And then he thought of his own yearning to hear from his father… and here was someone else wanting to hear from their family.  
>"Who do you have in… Arefu was it?"<p>

Lucy nodded, "My parents and my younger brother. It's only a small town, so it won't be hard to find them. And the whole place is on top of an overpass… not easy to miss."

Tom thought for a moment before finally looking up into Lucy's desperate, fearful eyes. She deserved some piece of mind.

"I'll get going tomorrow morning," he said, "Do you think you could mark Arefu down on a map?"

Lucy's face immediately relaxed as she breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh definitely. Thank you so much. I'll make it up to you I promise."

Tom opened up the map on his Pip-Boy and she quickly fingered the spot, setting the co-ordinates. Afterwards she spoke her gratitude many times over before Tom insisted she go home and rest and heal.

Once back inside Tom decided he needed to get some supplies if he was going to be on the road for four days… probably more for somebody as inexperienced as him. He searched around until he found a large tin and he emptied the contents of the pouch Simms had handed him and two hundred caps rattled into the tin. Then he unstrapped the strip of cloth on his leg. There was an angry red mark left behind and a dent in his skin which was painful hot and painful to the touch.

He emptied these hundred caps into the tin, leaving him with what seemed to him a fair piece of wealth. Luckily he wouldn't have to buy any water, but some food was going to be necessary. What he wanted most of all, however, was another gun.

"Wadsworth!" he called out.

In no time the mechanical butler was descending the stairs, "Yes sir, how can I help you?"

"Do you know where I can go to pick up some supplies?"

"What kind of supplies sir?"

"Guns and food?"

"Craterside Supply is a rather wonderful supplies outlet for weapons and I've no doubt the Brass Lantern will be able to cater to your edible needs," Wadsworth suggested.

"Thank you. And could you fill enough bottles for a journey that long with clean water, please?"

"Certainly sir. Would you like me to do so immediately, or are you leaving me to incorporate this amongst my other household assignments?"

"As long as it's ready tomorrow morning I don't mind when you do it, Wadsworth," Tom said as he put the can into a small bag he found crumpled underneath the shelves by the stairs.

He found Craterside Supplies easily enough. Its base was a square and boring hut, but perched on top of it was the nose of a commercial jet, the huge letters 'S-U-P-P-L-Y' held up on posts on top of it. The shop itself was above and to the right of the clinic, with the scaffolding of pathways crossing over the roof of the clinic to lead up to it.

Tom stepped inside, the door creaking as he pushed it. The building had two levels, the lower being the shop itself. The first room was large, with a counter to the right and a computer terminal to the left. Lockers were placed all over the room, including behind the counter.  
>There was a doorway on the left wall, which seemed to lead to a sparse room with not much more than a bed in it. Leaning against the wall next to the doorway was a tall severe looking man wearing heavy looking armour which seemed mostly made up of metal plates and toughened leather. Slung across his back was a long automatic rifle which looked extremely well maintained.<p>

The man nodded to Tom as he entered, but said nothing.

A woman suddenly stood up straight from behind the counter, startling Tom.

"Oh, silly me!" she said in an almost sickly sweet voice, "I was off in my own world down there, didn't even realise we had company. Welcome to Craterside Supply! My name is Moira Brown, what can I supply you with?"  
>Tom, hesitantly, approached the counter, "Uh I'm going to Arefu. I'm planning on picking up some food from the Brass Lantern but I was wondering if you have any ammunition for this gun?" he put his bag on the counter and gently pulled out the pistol, all too aware of the armed man watching him.<p>

Moira Brown took a quick glance at the gun and beamed, "I most certainly do, just give me a moment." She turned and opened one of the lockers, looking through the shelves. Finally she came back with a little box full of loose bullets and one empty magazine, "It's two caps per bullet and you can have this extra magazine for twenty," she said, still speaking with that intensely cheerful voice.

Tom did a quick calculation in his head and asked for the right amount of bullets to fill both the magazine in the gun, the spare one in his pocket and the extra. All up it cost him around fifty caps.

Tom loaded the magazines and put the pleasantly heavy objects away. He then turned to Moira and asked, "Do you have any other guns?" his BB gun flashed through his mind, "Maybe like a rifle?"

Moira's smile widened, "You know I don't usually stock that kind of thing. I mostly deal in handguns, but I've just recently acquired," she stopped to bend down and pull something out from under the bench. When she straightened up she was holding a long rifle with a wooden base. It looked fairly beaten up, strung together with stiff, old rope in some places. However while Moira was handling it, lifting it up and placing it on the counter, it seemed to be fairly solid, "I just happened to acquire this .32 hunting rifle. I'll offer you a one-time deal: 170 for the rifle and I'll give you the twenty bullets I've got for it for free."

Not long after that Tom was walking back to his house with two-hundred and twenty less caps and a bag full of ammunition and a small amount of food with a hunting rifle slung across his back. The weight of his weapons felt good, particularly the rifle.

That night before going to sleep he found an old belt and used a knife to cut slits in it. He slid ten of the 32. calibre rounds into the slots. He now had a makeshift bullet belt.

He lay in bed for a long time, listening to Wadsworth hover around the house and then eventually power down at midnight.

It felt like hours before he finally drifted off to sleep, where he was wracked by nightmares of monsters and violent people, blood in their teeth and cruelty in their laughter…

The night before Tom's journey was not restful.


	12. Chapter 11

11.

It was an early start for Tom. He rose at six and went through his pack one last time before leaving. The sun was peeking over the horizon, shining brightly on the metal walls and roofs of Megaton, blinding in some places.

Tom walked on the creaking metal scaffolds, shivering slightly in the morning chill. He didn't meet anyone in his path.

Soon he was standing outside the metal doors of his adopted town, pack on his shoulder, a rifle slung across his back and the bullet belt across his chest, next to the slow but seemingly friendly robot that stood guard at all hours.

Tom checked his map, getting his bearings. Arefu was to the North-West of Megaton. He turned his head in that direction, gazing at the horizon as the slowly rising sun lit it up. Tom stared a moment before starting off.

Not much later he was treading carefully through Springvale, keeping a strong eye out for more raiders. The 'eyebot' as Gob had called it, continued to buzz along and beam its message out to the ghost town. Tom no longer listened to the things it had to say.

He passed the small house he'd found Silver in and started angling to the left. After a few minutes he was off of what little road was left in the barren wasteland. Every step he took was a new one, taking him further into unfamiliar territory, carrying him further and further away from the small, almost safe place he had been building in Megaton: a safe haven, with clean water, a bed… and a lock on the door.

The more he trudged through the land the more he noticed how far from barren it was: certainly dry and dusty, but far from barren.

Shrubs littered the ground, tight clumps of twigs, struggling to live in the dry and pebbly earth; leafless trees, twisting out of the ground like skeletal tentacles, sometimes in small groups, but usually dispersed, littering the wasteland like freckles.

In fact the world didn't even have to be ugly; the sun shone so brightly and lit the landscape up with such a warmth and flare that he could almost feel a gentle movement in chest: the kind of movement you only feel when you see something breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful it stays with you forever.

But for all its deceptive beauty, there was one indisputable fact about travelling in the wasteland: your only audible company was the wind, which constantly whistled above your head, lightly, quietly; that and the sound of your boots crunching on the ground.

Tom noticed all these things as he walked and prayed for sound. In the vault they'd had a little music played over the speakers occasionally. Gob had mentioned that Galaxy News Radio had played music sometimes: if he thought the signal would have improved by now Tom would have tuned into them on his Pip-Boy, would have given anything to listen to the music. He tried to remember the music that was played in the vault: he wasn't able to remember much at all. Already his memories of that place had begun to be swept away, caught in the wind.

The day soon became blisteringly hot and Tom tried several times to use the trees for shade, but they were a poor substitute for cover. Eventually he decided to grin and bear it, and continued to march on over the uneven, hilly terrain.

Occasionally he would pass a pile of junk, or a group of boulders. Once or twice he passed what looked like bones, half buried in the ground.

The sun was high up in the sky above Tom's head when he began to see something on the horizon, something other than hills of dirt or trees.

After another hour of walking he realised it was an overpass, a road held high up off of the ground by concrete pillars. It stretched for miles across the landscape and became Tom's goal for the day. He would rest there, and if he couldn't see any more cover up ahead he would stay there for the night.

An hour or so after that Tom began to feel uneasy. He had yet to encounter anything, any of the dangers that everyone muttered about when they spoke of the wasteland. But he was beginning to feel like he was being watched. He quickened his pace.

With the sun beating down on him and only the barest of breeze Tom was sweating in rivulets, dripping from nose and into his eyes. He stopped for thirty seconds to take a quick drink from one of the three bottles that Wadsworth had been able to fill for him. It was warm and tasted a little metallic, but in his circumstances it was all Tom could do not to drink the entire bottle. He allowed himself only a little to drink and then put it away, grimacing. His entire body ached, burnt and itched, but he wouldn't allow himself to give into the pain and discomfort, not until he had reached the overpass.

It was just reaching twilight when he stumbled over the last few steps to the base of a pillar beneath the overpass. Up close it was easy to see that the road had not exactly survived the nuclear holocaust without its own injuries. Pieces had been blown away; chunks of concrete and road ripped away like clumps of dirt and tossed impossible distances. The iron bars that ran through the roads and pillars, reinforcing them, twisted out of these chunks like the flailing limbs of some giant dying insect. Pieces were scattered all across the ground and the road itself was pockmarked and verging on skeletal.

Even the pillar Tom now lay against had a large chunk missing from its side. It exposed the bars within the pillar, and they had been twisted by whatever event had ripped the rest of the overpass away. The twist of the bars and the depth of the hole in the pillar were such that Tom thought he could almost climb up and sleep in the little 'cage' if he wanted to… but he couldn't be bothered. He'd walked all the hours of the day away and did not care to follow them up with a climb.

He rested a moment, his muscles buzzing and twitching so much that he had almost forgotten about his aching stomach. He pulled an iguana stick from his bag and chewed on it a little while, before putting half of it away.

Just as he pulled the zip closed on the bag he heard a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck rise: a high howl which rolled over the hilly land around him. It was answered by two more, and a chorus of harsh barking.

Tom reached over and picked up his pistol, which he had placed down next to him when he had sat down, and flicked the safety switch off. He began to slowly stand, looking around him furtively.

Gradually he began to hear a quiet sound approaching him: the sound of many soft feet approaching him, stepping lightly on the ground.

And growling: low, hungry and vicious growling.

As the sun began to dip below the western horizon Tom finally saw what had been watching, saw the things that had been following him since he had left Springvale, though he hadn't felt them until much later.

It was a pack of dogs, hairless with burnt skin in places, their lips curled back, exposing their red gums and yellowed teeth. Their black eyes regarded him with a blind greed and hunger that made him squirm. There were seven of them, surrounding him, all growling and all advancing slowly.

Tom slowly crouched down and picked his bag up, keeping his gun raised. He could see from the way they moved that they recognised guns. What he didn't know was they also knew their way around them, how to run under them and get to the throat of their prey.

He couldn't run.

He couldn't kill them all.

He couldn't hold them off.

Tom only had one idea that was totally insane… as insane as leaving the vault, he told himself.

He scanned the growling creatures, his heart racing in his chest, blood pounding in his ears, for the biggest brute. This was easy, as they were all so emaciated that their ribs poked out grotesquely through their hide; all except for one.

He looked into the eyes of the burly dog, recognised its command over the others, the order it created for them… and its brute strength.

He pointed the gun at the dog next to it, tensing his arm, ready for the recoil. He watched as the dog tensed as well, ready to dodge at the first sign of movement and leap forward, ready to taste his blood and gnaw on his bones. The leader of the pack moved a little away from it.

Tom flicked his hand to the left and shot the leader of the pack between the eyes… except it was not a neat bullet hole left behind, but half of a head, covered in gore, bleeding out onto the ground as the creature twitched, still moaning in its throat.

Every dog shrunk away from the sound of the bullet and the sight of their felled leader. Tom spared no time, turning and leaping up, reaching for the iron 'cage' above his head. His hand gripped the grid of interlocking iron and tossed the gun over the lip of the 'cage' where it clattered down, caught by the web of rusted metal. Tom used his hands to haul himself up, bringing his feet up, scrambling up the pillar. He climbed at least a meter in a second and was soon clear of the worst threat as the dogs howled and barked madly at his ankles, jumping and snapping at him, chaotically trying to reach him.

Suddenly one of the dogs leapt up high enough and bit down, catching his pants by the ankle. The added weight almost tore Tom from the bars and down into squirming, hairless pink mass of dogs. He held on for dear life as the dog dangled below him, growling and shaking its body, trying to ease his grip down. He kicked out blindly once, twice…

The third kick caught the animal in the nose, breaking it and making it release him. The dog whined and fell, landing hard on its hind legs. It limped away from its failure while the others snapped at it, barking and growling, mad for a kill.

Tom hauled himself over the edge of the 'cage', receiving a shallow cut across his stomach on the end of one of the bears.

He looked down as the dogs howled and barked, still jumping at him. Now there were only three: the other three had dragged the carcass of the leader away, snapping at each other as they went. He could hear the sound of muscle being torn from bone and bone itself snapping in the darkness. He guessed that their leader had met a very dear fate indeed.

The dogs considered to circle below him the entire night, not leaving once and eventually the other three returned, their muzzles stained red and their breath hot with blood.

Tom didn't want to waste bullets shooting in the dark and so he sat, up in his perch, waiting for day to come. While he knew he at one point did indeed sleep, curled up in the fetal position and cradling his pack in his arms, with the pistol lying on top of it and the rifle standing against the pillar, the butt resting on the bars, he did not know when or for how long. He knew it couldn't have been more than an hour.

The night seemed to stretch on for an eternity and Tom shivered the entire time, the heat of the day dissipating, replaced with the sharp cold of the night.

Just when Tom had all but given up on the day ever returning to save him he began to see a bright light out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to the east and saw, with relief, the orange glow of the sun rising slowly over the horizon. He looked down.

A couple of the dogs had fallen asleep at the foot of the pillar, but the rest were just wandering about, waiting for him.

An hour later the sun was above the horizon and Tom was able to see the beasts all clearly. They had all stirred and were now watching him. There was no sign anywhere of the fallen leader. Tom wandered if every last piece had been licked up.

He placed the pistol in the pack and took up the rifle. There was no safety switch on it, so he simply took aim, poking the barrel out between the netting of the bars. The dogs looked up at him with curiosity.

He pulled the trigger and one of them jumped and rolled away, whining shortly before dying from the wound in its chest. The others immediately began barking and jumping up at him, desperate to get at him. He killed two more, bringing their number down to three. But they wouldn't relent, wouldn't turn tail and run. Tom fired the rifle three more times.

After he was finished he lowered the rifle down gently by the strap, letting it touch the ground and then leaning it against the pillar. Then he climbed over, his pack on, and lowered himself down to the ground, stiff and sore. He was surrounded by sticky blood and bodies, which was already attracting flies. He left, not wanting to wait for what else was drawn to it.


	13. Chapter 12

12.

Tom left the gore of the morning behind, his stomach twisting every time his mind wandered back to the base of that pillar and the carcasses that lay there. He turned his head once and was horrified to see a flock of birds had landed and were picking the creatures clean.

He took three sparing sips from his water and finished the last of the iguana stick. The sun lit the landscape once again, shining in Tom's weary eyes and warming his aching body.

After an hour he was passing a rusted silo which had split towards the base and toppled over on its side. In front of him was what had once been a large ranch house, now a burnt out husk of a house on a slant. Just in front of that were the remains of a small tin shed, the rusted corrugated iron giving the impression of a history long since mourned for. Just by the house was a still windmill with its face to the West, constantly watching for the wind.

Tom approached the house warily, his hand on the handle of the pistol which was tucked into his belt.

The wooden frame of the house gave a low groan as he approached. He stepped through a gaping hole in the wall and into the heart of the shell.

Mounds of dirt littered the ground within the house. In one corner a metal bed frame was half submerged, as well as several tires and planks of wood.

Tom felt something strange beneath his foot and he looked down, stepping back.

Lying at his feet was a dirty stuffed bear, with one eye and a persistent, stitched smile. Tom bent down and picked the bear up, gingerly, looking down at the little plush creature, wondering who it had belonged to… if they had survived the bombs. Or were they buried somewhere in this wreckage with nobody left to remember them.

Something shifted behind Tom and he spun around.

Slowly and silently approaching was a scorpion… not the kind that lives under rocks or hides in trees. Though Tom didn't know this, it was a Capital Wasteland Radscorpion. It was larger than the feral dogs of the night before, much larger, at least twice as large. Its husk was a dull poisonous blue and its beady black eyes watched Tom with malice as it slowly shifted towards him on its eight thick legs. Each of its pincers was at least twice as big as Tom's head, curved and wickedly sharp. As soon as he turned around a sound began to emit from its strange mouth, a clicking sound combined with a hiss, an angry poisonous sound.

But the most terrifying part of this creature was its long, curved tail, with its barb at the end, the bulb swollen with venom.

Tom was frozen, gazing at this monster which had snuck down from the rafters of the house, moving silently and quickly to take him. If it hadn't stepped in the wrong place he would never have heard it: in fact he would be being stung to death at that very moment.

But he'd been given a chance. He held the creature's gaze for as long as he dared, his heart pounding, his throat clenched with an almost paralysing fear.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of standing, Tom turned and bolted in the opposite direction, dropping the bear and pulling his pistol from his belt. He could hear the radscorpion hissing angrily behind him, its clawed feet pounding on the ground as it scuttled after him. He leapt over through the slanted and empty front doorway, turning as he did so and firing off three bullets. The creature was right behind him and one of the bullets pounded useless into the ground, spitting up dirt, but the other two hit home. One hit the creature in the mouth and the other took out its eye.

The creature squealed in pain and halted for a moment as swampy green blood oozed from its eye and mouth, dripping on the ground.

Tom continued to fire as he landed hard on the ground, scraping skin from the back of his leg and shoulder. The creature rushed forward and received four more bullets in its face. It shuddered and lurched forward blindly, still screeching. Tom saw its stinger moving forward and he threw himself to the side as the barb crashed down and stuck into the ground where his stomach had once been.

The creature twisted and shuddered, suffering and crying out. Tom slowly got to his feet, looking down at the creature with a mix of revulsion and pity as it sprayed more of its green blood all over the dusty ground, rolling and squirming in the mess. He pointed the pistol and fired one more bullet into its head and the creature ceased moving.

Tom checked the clip in the pistol and found that he only had four more left before he had to change.

He checked his leg and was relieved to find it was only a graze and started away from the ranch, limping slightly. As he walked he started hearing a snuffling noise behind him. He turned and saw pink wrinkly creatures, low to the ground and with four legs and long whispers. They had small eyes and their front teeth were long and looked very sharp and they had small stubby tails. They were sniffing at the radscorpion and pulling at the carapace that covered its body, trying to get at the meat underneath. One of them looked up and saw Tom. It let out a shriek and charged him. Tom stumbled back and pulled his gun again, ready to fire, but the creature only charged him for a moment, to scare him away from their meal. It stopped once Tom crossed the road that lay outside the house and turned back to get in at the carcass.

Tom watched them a moment, curious, before turning and walking away, looking back occasionally to make sure they weren't following him.

As he walked the pale blue sky stretched out above him, leading to the horizon where clouds hung about the distant mountain ridges, yellowed by the dust in the wind between them and Tom.

After another hour he looked back and could see the overpass running along the Eastern horizon, crooked like a child's outline of the distance.

Soon Tom met small road, which was hemmed in by boulders and leafless trees like a mini valley.

Soon he was off road again and he could see a river to his right, perhaps an hour's walk away. The sun was starting to set again when he looked to his left and noticed the roof of another building. He checked his map and saw that he could walk the rest of the distance in the morning and headed for the building.

He crossed a road and some very rocky terrain to get to the house. A wooden fence, partially destroyed, ringed the building, which itself didn't look much better than the ranch house with the radscorpion in it.

Remembering that incident Tom drew his pistol as he stepped forward in the twilight. As he did he heard something creak beneath his feet. He stopped and looked down and found he was standing on a half-buried sign. He kicked the dirt off of the sign to reveal what Tom figured was the name of the building: Kaelyn's Bed & Breakfast.

Tom walked around to what he figured was the front door. The house was eerily silent and Tom could see something handing up in the rafters. As he crossed the threshold he finally realised, with horror, what it was: a violently dismembered torso, with part of a thigh and arm still attached, strung up on long curved hook which were stuck through the flesh. Suddenly he heard something and he turned in time to see the head of a brahmin swinging down on a chain. It crashed into Tom, knocking him over, the horn cutting his cheek, almost gouging his eye. He crashed to the ground and suddenly movement was all around him.

Four people, three men and a woman, were rolling off of tin sheets lay across the broken floor of the second story of the house, and landing down around Tom, cackling, drawing knives and guns.

Tom had dropped his gun in the fall, but a knife lay next to him. One of the women leaned forward to grab him and he swung it hard. The woman screeched and jumped back, three of her fingers toppling away from her hand, spraying blood. She gripped her hand and swore loudly. The others froze for a moment, wondering what had happened. Tom was quickly on his feet, knife out, scanning the ground for his pistol. The rifle would be no good in these close quarters. He quickly spotted it lying just outside the house. He turned his attention back to the raiders.

"He's a fighter," the man muttered, gripping what looked like a machine gun, inching forward, "good sport."

"We could take him to Evergreen," one of the women muttered, "They'd pay well for a big strong boy like this one. He looks well fed."

Tom kept his knees bent and his eyes focused on all of them, making sure they wouldn't flank him. If he hadn't he wouldn't have caught the second woman, the one whose fingers were still intact and hadn't spoken yet, looking past his shoulder for a second.

He spun around fast, swinging the blade, completely unconscious to the violence that was ensuing. He was tired, hungry, sore and royally pissed off. The bearded raider behind him never knew what was coming. His eyes widened as Tom buried the knife to the hilt in his throat, moving behind him and grabbing the shot gun from his hands and firing it at the other man. The gun he had fired was a Combat Shotgun, which had a round magazine attached to it, much like a Thompson machine gun, which held twelve shells. Each shell itself contained nine bullets.

As such, when Tom fired the gun it sent a spray of nine projectiles out. Six of them landed in the other man, three tearing his gun to pieces, two ripping his hand up and the last burying itself in his own throat. Of the other three, two hit the woman on his right in the arm and the third crashed harmlessly into a beam.

Tom pointed the gun at the other woman and fired, blowing a sizeable hole through her stomach. She was thrown backwards and landed on the woman whose fingers had been severed, whom had been squirming on the ground, groaning and swearing.

Tom turned the gun to the third woman but she was on him, batting the gun aside and punching him hard in the face with a pair of brass knuckles. Tom stumbled backwards, his head spinning and stars in his eyes. It was all he could do not to fall or drop the gun. She swung them into his stomach, winding him and then hit him with an upper cut. He was thrown off of his feet and onto his back. She straddled him and the knuckles crashed into the side of his face once and then again. He could taste blood in his mouth and could see only her vicious bared teeth as she lay into him with all the violence in her. She didn't see him angling the shot gun's barrel to point at her side. She only knew when he pulled the trigger and her side was blown away in chunks. Her eyes widened and blood welled up over her lips and spattered Tom's face. She choked and twitched, falling to the side. Tom gingerly got to his feet and stepped into the house and over to the girl with the severed fingers, whom was still struggling to push the body of her fallen comrade off of her. She stopped and stared as Tom approached with the shotgun in his hand. She looked into his eyes, which were weary and sunken in a face that was bruised and flecked with blood.

A moment later there was a shot and the woman ceased to struggle.

Tom checked the gun and found that there were still two shells left. He found his own pistol, checked it for any damage and placed it inside his backpack. As he zipped the bag up a hole in the wall exploded by his head and he jumped to the side, scrambling across the ground and lifting the shotgun up. There was another shot which whistled past his ear. The flash from the unseen assailant's gun helped Tom pinpoint where he was coming from. He crawled along on his belly, leaving the shotgun behind. Night had fallen and it was hard to see but Tom had a feeling he could see the raiders head: he was standing amongst the rubble below a small collapsed bridge that ran next to the house. Tom brought his rifle around and aimed slowly and carefully. He had a flash of shooting radroaches with his BB gun, down in the lower rooms of the vault.

After a long moment of breathing and patiently waiting Tom felt the time was right. He squeezed the trigger and the gun fired. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he was pretty sure that his attackers head had been demolished, judging from what he could only describe as a splash that had corresponded with his shot.

Tom's taste and smell were filled with blood. If there had been any light he was sure that all he would be able to see would be blood.

As it was it was dark enough for him not have to deal with that sight. A morbid thought entered Tom's mind and as he considered the macabre nature of it he also realised the practicality of it. He searched through the pockets of the dead, finding several chems, bottle caps and ammunition. Soon he had a small pile of bullets and syringes which he loaded into his bag. He also found four lockboxes in a corner of the building, hidden under a sheet of wood.

They were filled with several bullets, shells and an extra round magazine for the shotgun. One of the boxes was simply full of grenades, which tom left in the box, instead placing the whole box in his pack. He then carefully and warily stepped down to where his last attacker had been, down in the ruins of the bridge. He had fired true, and most of the raider's had was missing. He found a rifle that looked similar to Tom's own and a pouch full of bullets that looked like the ones he wore in the belt across his chest. He collected these things up and carried them back up to the house. He climbed up to the second level, wanting to be away from the bodies, and curled up in a corner, gripping his own rifle, his now very heavy pack with the butt of the shotgun sticking out sitting next to him and the raider's rifle sitting at his feet.

As the night wore on he heard shots in the distance and screams. They seemed to be coming from the direction in which he was headed in the morning, which was less than encouraging.

While Tom had slept at most an hour with the dogs at his feet, he did not sleep a wink that night, with the corpses below him.


	14. Chapter 13

13.

The moment the sun broke over the East Tom was up and leaving, not even bothering to eat. The previous two days had withered away his appetite.

He walked down the hillside away from the long since burned up B&B. He no longer noticed the ache in his muscles or the pounding in his head or the heaviness of his eyes. In fact he noticed very little, except for the direction he was walking and the things immediately in front of him. He crossed the road that ran past the B&B and soon left it out of sight, passing a large bill board that seemed to advertise a television show called 'The Adventures of Captain Cosmos'. On the sign broken and holey sign was a monkey in a crude orange space-suit, with a bubble around its head, riding a rocket ship. On the right side of the sing was half of a tall man, hands on his hips and blonde hair, appearing to be the titular Captain Cosmos. Half of him was cut off by rust and damage to the sign…

After an hour of walking the few wisps of cloud up in the sky were stained a bright red by the rising sun. He was now following a road that, according to his map, should lead right through Arefu. He looked up from his Pip-Boy and found that the road was turned to the right and became an overpass. Standing on the corner of the road, half buried in mounds of rubble and dirt, was another tall bill board, seeming to advertise a smooth edged orange car. At the base of this sign was a rusted and burnt up car that resembled the one on the sign. On the right of the overpass stood a large tin house, with a small paddock next to it. The sound of flies buzzing was noticeable and as Tom drew closer he realised that the pen was full of slaughtered brahmin, their necks thighs sliced open. Flies had begun settling on the bodies.

Tom regarded eyed this for a moment before turning and starting warily up the overpass, over which hung a faded green highway sign. Where once it had said 'Careful' the letters had faded away, leaving behind 'Arefu'.

As Tom walked up the road he noticed that the left lane was impassable, choked up by rubble and crashed vehicles. At one point the front of a bus poked out into the right lane, rusted out, its windshields long since smashed in and most of the interior torn away.

The road had several cracks in it, exposing the ground and eventually the river beneath it, but at some point someone had covered these cracks and holes with planks of wood and sheets of tin. Tom glanced down at these curiously as he passed over them.

A sound interrupted his train of thought: a clattering sound. He looked around and then finally spotted the source of the noise. A small round thing was rolling towards him… after a moment Tom realised what it was and felt his blood run cold. He leapt to the side, jumping over the concrete barrier that ran through the middle of the road and hunkering down, hands over his ears. The grenade exploded, shaking the road and sending a shower of debris into the air which pattered down on his back. After a moment he stood into a crouch and peaked over the edge of the barrier. He ducked back down when a gun shot went off and a piece of concrete exploded away from the barrier. "Don't shoot," he shouted, "I'm here to deliver a letter! Lucy West, from Megaton, sent me!"

There was a moment of silence before a high wavering voice called back, "What colour is Lucy's hair?"

"Blonde!"

Another long silence followed. Finally the voice called back, "Alright, come on up. But try something and I won't think twice about pushing you off this bridge!"

Tom climbed back over the barrier and started up the road. Soon he was standing at the top and approaching a man behind a small barrier of sandbags. The man himself wore a bulky black and blue jacket, black gloves and a pair of blue jeans with knee high boots. Two bandoleers loaded with ammunition crossed across his chest. He also wore a cap with a pair of goggles strapped above the brim of the hat.

He was an old man, his skin sun burned to a dark brown colour. His eyes peeked out from amidst a great amount of wrinkles. A long assault rifle was in his hands, though he had it pointed down to the ground.

The man stepped forward and spoke with a voice high and broken, kind of like a squeaky door, "Sorry about that kid. If you knew the night I'd had you'd understand a stray grenade or two."

Tom couldn't help but think, _If you knew the night _I'd _had you would have understood a violent response or two._ Instead he waved it off, "Don't worry about it. You can't be too careful out here."

The man eyed Tom for a moment, taking in the sight of his puffy bruised face and the blood stains on his clothes, "No you can't. What's your name boy?"

Tom extended his hand, "Tom Williams."

The man shook it, "Evan King. Welcome to Arefu. You said your business was delivering a letter?"

Tom nodded.

"Well listen, son, I haven't really got time to be the post office. The shit's about to hit the fan here and I don't know if I can stop it."

"What's going on? I'd like to help if I can?"

King regarded Tom carefully for a moment before speaking again, "We're being hassled by a group who call themselves The Family. Usually they just come up and rattle our doors and trash the town… but last night they went too far! Did you see the slaughtered brahmin at the base of the bridge? Those were _ours_! That's our lifeblood out there. Without the brahmin we're probably going to have to up and relocate. But aside from that, if you want to help, then help me check on the residents here. There's only four houses to check, so just knock on the doors and if people answer you then all's well and move on to the next."

Tom nodded and went over to the first house on the left. The town itself was small, with four houses on the left and one large one, Evan King's, on the right. The view to the North-East was of river which ran in an upside down U shape, and the overpass far off in the distance, stretching over the horizon. Several sunken boats lay in the water, two small dinghies and two larger boats that were moored to an old jetty. The view from the other side of town was just hilly wasteland, dotted with the occasional bare tree and a view of the end of the river, which contained another, much larger sunken boat. There were several other ruins off in the distance, the tips of tall buildings that looked a little like factories, and the overpass stretching around, a never ending landmark in the wasteland.

Tom knocked on the door of the first house, a very small shack with a strange tall contraption that looked a little like a look out post with a sheets of tin for a roof.

"Who is it!" a rough male voice answered.

"My name is Thomas Williams," Tom answered, "Evan King asked me to check on you."

There was a moment of silence before the door was opened roughly, giving Tom a view of a small and dingy home.

The door was answered by a tall man with bags under his eyes, "Well we're fine."  
>"Have we got a visitor Ken? I'll put on the kettle for tea."<p>

Tom looked past the man's shoulder and saw a woman with straight blonde hair and a distant look in her eye putting a book on top of a stove that didn't look like it had worked since pre-war.

"They can't stay for tea, Brailee," Ken answered, "He's got other things to do." He looked back to Tom, "As you can see everything is perfectly okay. Evan King is doing a bang up job," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "Unless you're here to tell me something is actually being done about The Family… we're done." He slammed the door shut in Tom's face.

Tom blinked, considered knocking again and then decided against it. He walked down the road and around to the next house, which sat with its back to the first. It was a little larger, with a slightly bulging side.

This time when Tom knocked a young, very skinny woman answered, opening the door a fraction and peering through the crack.

Tom remembered how he looked and tried to offer a friendly smile, "Never mind the bruises. I had a pretty rough night."

It seemed to persuade the woman to open the door a little more, "So did we. Evan King sent you to check on us?"

Tom nodded.

"Still sitting behind his sandbags with that gun rattling in his hands?"

Tom hesitated, "Uh… if you want to put it like that."

The woman sighed, "I'm sorry. My name is Karen Schenzy," she offered her hand, which Tom shook gently, "It's just been a long time since King backed up any of his promises to keep us safe. He told you about what's been happening?"

"He mentioned The Family."

"Did he tell you they've been terrorising us for months now?"  
>Tom shook his head, remembering Lucy telling him it had been three months since she'd received contact.<p>

Karen sighed again, "Look… is it safe right now? Are they gone?"

Tom nodded, "So far as I can tell there's no one else around for a while."  
>"Good… I heard gun shots in the distance last night, before the family attacked… was that you?"<p>

Tom nodded.

"Well… I'm glad to know somebody out here can take care of themselves," she stepped out of the house, closing the door behind her, "I'm going to go talk to King. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't, but it's Tom Williams."

"Thank you Tom."

Karen turned and walked away, pulling a holey shawl around her shoulders to keep her warm in the chill air. Tom had a feeling the chill wouldn't last long this morning.

He started off towards the last house. Tom figured it must be where Lucy's family lived. It didn't look any different from the other houses, except for Evan King's which was an imposing size on the little town, and perhaps too much for one man doing a lackluster job, according to his townspeople.

Tom reached the house and knocked on the door. The sound seemed small with the vast expanse of the wasteland all around him and the wind in his ears, ruffling his hair and clothes. He knocked again, but still there was no answer. He turned the handle and found that it was unlocked. He pushed the door open and stepped in.

The first thing Tom noticed as he slowly opened the door was the smell that rushed to him, a strong metallic smell that brought back memories of the night before. His stomach lurched and his heart sank. He pushed the door right open in the dark house. Light came in from the door and spilled over the room.

It was small, with one bed pushed to the right wall and a bunk bed against the wall next to the door. A cabinet with shattered glass panes stood against the far wall.

And there were two corpses strewn about the room.

Tom jumped back, his back hitting the door frame and held his wrist to his mouth, trying not to throw up. The corpses were unnaturally thin and gaunt, almost as though they'd been drained of something.

What appeared to be a man lay on the ground in front of the door in a pool of still wet blood. A woman lay on the bed against the right wall, her blood soaking into the mattress.

Tom breathed in deep breaths and stooped down to have a closer look. He nearly fainted when he saw his own reflection shining in the pool of blood… but it wasn't enough blood.

As Tom inspected the body, applying the little amount of medical experience he had picked up from his father, he began to notice strange things.

There were bite marks on both of the corpse's necks and all the signs indicated that exsanguination was the cause of death… but the amount of blood on the floor and mattress was only a fraction of what it would take to drain a person to death.

Finally Tom had had enough and he stumbled out of the house, gasping in the fresh air, his hands on his thighs as he hunched over, trying not to throw up. After a moment of recovery he fetched Evan King and returned with him.

King saw the bodies, paled and turned away slowly. He walked over to the edge of the over pass, put his hands on the concrete wall and threw up over the edge.

Tom stared back at the house, wondering, _What the hell is going on here?_


	15. Chapter 14

14.

'_The Family_', was scrawled on the wall in blood and there was no sign of Ian, Lucy's brother. It appeared that he had been taken.

Once the sun broke clear of the horizon Evan judged it safe to leave the road unguarded, "They never attack during the day," he said.

"Why do you think that is?" Tom asked.

"Easier to get away after maybe," Evan shrugged, "Who know what makes those lunatics tick?"

They went into Evan's house, which seemed even larger on the inside than it did on the outside. It was cluttered with junk, ammunition boxes and guns. In one corner was, what appeared to be, a work bench with a vice and various bits and pieces of miscellaneous objects, alongside some tools.

They sat at the table in the middle of Evan King's main room while he poured a shot of whiskey into a glass, offering Tom one, whom declined politely.

"You sure kid? That was gruesome in there, not many men could look at that without needing a drink to dull the memory."

Tom shook his head grimly, "It's not the most disturbing thing I've seen in the last few days." Flashes of skulls bursting and blood spurting from the previous night ran through Tom's mind and his lip twitched slightly in disgust.

King shrugged, "Suit yourself," a downed the whiskey, pouring another glass to follow it. He sighed and stared down at this one, as though it contained the answer to the gruesome events. "Killing the brahmin wasn't enough… they had to kill two of my people and kidnap a third… God only knows what they're doing to that poor kid."

"This is your town, Mr. King," Tom said, "You need to protect it. Go after The Family."

"First of all, name's Evan, not 'Mr. King'… and secondly," Evan sipped from the whiskey, "Can't go after them. Gotta stay and protect the town."

"Evan, if this keeps happening there won't be a town left to protect."

The old man shook his head, "I can't. They need me to… to protect them."

Tom saw the truth. King was scared… terrified in fact. The Family scared him as much as it scared the rest.

After a long and painful silence Tom finally spoke, "Then I'll go and find them. I'll go and get Ian."

King looked up, shock on his face, "Kid no! I can see you've gone through some rough days but you don't know what we're up against! These people… there's something off about them."

"Pardon me, Evan, but these people aren't just going to sit here with their thumbs up their asses," Tom said, "They need to know that something's being done."

"But you're just a kid," King stammered.

Tom shook his head, "Not anymore, Evan. Not anymore."

An hour later Tom had a paper map spread out on the table and he and Tom were bent over it, with Evan pointing out three spots, "I can't ever see where exactly they go cos it's always dark, but they're heading East or Northeast of here. Try either the Moonbeam Outdoor Cinema, Hamilton's Hideaway or the Northwest Seneca Station." As he pointed to each location Tom marked it on the map on his Pip-Boy, "I've seen movement around those places a few times," he rolled the map up and put it away after, "You've got a little attitude in you kid, you know that? The good kind."

"Comes from my Dad," Tom muttered, "He had a very 'can do' attitude."

"He sounds like a good man," King said, smiling, "Raised a hell-of-a-boy, that's for sure."

Tom didn't know how to respond to that, "I'll be back by sundown."

Tom followed the river's edge, heading East towards the Cinema. On his right the rocky land sloped up and on his left the water, with its green tinge, lapped lazily against the shore. He passed a jetty on his way, littered with tin cans.

Soon the river came to an end, the covered with large boulders, the shore down a long slope below Tom. He heard a scuffling noise and splashing. He swung the rifle from his back into his hands. Evan King had used the raider's rifle he had acquired at the B&B and taken parts from it to fix up a couple of problems with the one he had bought. It now felt sturdier and a little heavier, but in a good way. He held the gun in his hands as he climbed over the rocks and peered over the edge.

Below him was what seemed to be a huge shifting ridged stone… then the stone looked up and exposed a pink face of some kind, rippled and ugly, with no definite mouth. Its eyes were bright red and it seemed to click angrily at Tom's sudden appearance. It began to move around the base of the small stone hill, exposing the rest of its body: The shell covered its entire back, and huge pincers acted as its hands. Its feet had two claws and a short spiky tail stuck out from under the shell. The creature was known commonly in the wasteland as a mirelurk, and was in fact a mutated descendant of the horseshoe crab… but none of this mattered to Tom: all that mattered to him was that it was looking for a way to get to him.

It ran up the hill and found itself with a clear shot at Tom, who raised the rifle and fired. The bullet hit the creature in the shoulder, but it barely flinched. Instead it lowered its head, its shell, and started to charge forward.

Tom felt the empty space behind him seem to loosen, to exaggerate how hard he was going to fall when this creature knocked him off the edge. He reloaded the rifle as fast as he could, the empty shell spinning away. He fired again and the bullet buried itself in the creatures shell. Blood welled up around the wound a little, but the creature did not falter.

There was no time to reload. Tom's mind raced as he tried to think of a way out.

He until the last possible moment before throwing himself to the side; the creature's intensely hard shell smacked into his shoulder, leaving an ugly bruise and Tom nearly careened off of the small cliff, in which case he would have landed heavily on the pebbly bank below, most like breaking something and winding himself. He caught hold of the edge of the cliff edge in time to stop this and the mirelurk threw itself off of the cliff and dived gracefully into the water, wear it swam a moment, most likely searching for Tom in the water. Tom climbed back up onto the ledge and picked the rifle up off of the ground. He reloaded and waited for the creature to resurface or head for the shore again… but it didn't. Instead it glided through the water a while before turning away and swimming away back down the river.

Tom watched it warily a moment before turning and leaving, climbing up the slope that led to the cinema.

Finally he reached the edge and the sun's light shone right into his eyes, blinding him for a moment. Tom lifted his arm for shade and looked around at the outdoor cinema.

The giant screen's back was to the B&B, which lay far off in the distance. There were about five cars littering the park, with several rows of the radio stalks sticking out of the ground, covered in rust and dust. There were also several picnic tables on the edge of what was once a hill overlooking what might have been a very nice view.

Tom heard something and turned his head. Someone was standing directly in front of the sun light on the road that led away from the cinema, to the east. Tom ducked behind a car, no longer interested in making friends with strangers out in the wasteland. He peered through the empty windows of the rusted out wreck, trying to get a booker look at the person. From what he could tell they were absolutely huge, bulging with muscles, and incredibly tall. Then the person spoke and Tom felt something squirm deep in his gut, "Is someone hiding! Why are you hiding! I'll smell you out!" their voice was a grotesque heavy and monstrous growl, and they spoke in short bursts, as though they struggled with their words.

Then the huge person moved forward and Tom started to get a better look: they were at least three meters tall, probably more, and there face was twisted into a constant Neanderthal scowl, their teeth jutting out at awkward angles. Their skin was a swampy yellow colour, with a red tinge underneath. Their skull was completely devoid of hair and their huge bulging body had lengths of leather strapped to their body and a piece of tire for a shoulder guard. They held a rifle like Tom's, which looked comically small in their huge hands.

Then the thing, whatever it was, fired and the bullet cracked over the roof of the car that Tom was hiding behind. He jumped and ducked down and the thing let out a harsh and cruel cry of laughter, "Found you!"

Thumps shook the ground and Tom realised that it was running towards him. He took a chance and stood up fast, swinging the rifle around and firing swiftly. It was a lucky shot, the bullet crashing into the creature's collar bone, but the small spurt of red blood that erupted from the wound seemed miniscule, a pin prick, compared to the sheer mass of the beast. The creature raised its own gun and fired and barely missed Tom, who started off at a run, ducking behind cars as the creature kept firing, laughing hysterically in its unbelievably low voice, "Run little human. Run for my fun!"

Then the creature's gun jammed. Tom heard the unmistakable sound of a dull click as the firing pin didn't hit home. He shot up, like before, aiming the gun, his instincts taking over as he took up what he would never have recognised as the perfect firing pose, and squeezed the trigger. This time the bullet crashed into the side of the creature's head, entering and leaving through its temples. It shuddered and wavered on its feet, its hand slowly reaching up and fingering the wound, coming away smeared with blood. The creature gazed at the blood stupidly and then turned its head to Tom, "Hey…" its words began to slur together, "Why… whywoolyoudotha…?"

Tom fired again, taking the top of the creatures head off. It collapsed wordlessly to the ground.  
>Tom walked carefully over to the huge corpse, which stunk worse than the Wests' home had, the rifle still raised, just in case.<p>

He searched the pouches that were wrapped around the creature's waist and soon had more bullets than he had set out from Megaton with, with enough to fill maybe seven or eight clips. He refilled the clip for the rifle and slid it back home, putting the rest of the bullets in his bag.

"What happened out there!"

Tom turned around to see an almost identical creature climb out of the back of a trailer which was hitched to a long dormant truck. On its back was a large square metal pack and in its hands was a huge mini-gun, its long barrel glinting in the sun. The creature looked around and saw its companion lying dead on the ground. It then saw Tom standing over it.

"You kill…" it shouted, then seemed to hesitate, as though trying to remember its dead companion's name… but it drew a complete blank, "them! You kill them!" The barrel of the mini-gun began to turn and the machine hummed into the life. Tom sprinted as the dirt sprung up at his heels, bullets pounding into the ground behind, not even inches away from his ankles. Just one hit would have been enough to sign his death. He leapt over the hood of a car and cowered behind as bullets slammed into the side of the vehicle, making it rock back and forth on the stumps of its axles. He pulled the grenade box from his pack and zipped it back up. He opened the lid of the box and took one grenade out and then slipped the box under the car. He crawled away, the sound masked by the enraged cries of the beast-man and the sound of the bullets hitting the car. He took cover behind a boulder and peered over the top, waiting for the mini-gun to cease firing. The moment it did he pulled the pin of the grenade and tossed it. It clattered and rolled until it bumped next to the box full of its fellows. It settled just as the creature walked around to the other side of the car, peering down where he had thought Tom was and crying out, "I found you!" before realising Tom wasn't there.

At that moment the grenade exploded, prompting the others to do so. The resulting explosion shook the ground and seared the creature's flesh and face. It also lifted the car's carcass off of the ground and tossed it against the beast, knocking it to the ground and landing on top of it. The creature cried out in pain, surprise and fury as the flaming metal wreck pinned it to the ground, burning its flesh and crushing it.

Tom rushed back to the top of the hill, taking aim with the rifle and shot at the creature. The first bullet caught it in the ear and the appendage exploded, leaving a gaping red hole behind. The monster screamed and twisted its head to glare at Tom with its furious little yellow eyes. "Sneaky little mouse!" it growled, "Gonna… crush you!"

Tom was momentarily frozen by that horrendous gaze. The creature took its chance and its muscles bunched as it lifted the car off of it. It pushed and the car rolled away and the creature climbed to its feet, its front seared black and red, the skin cracked and weeping blood in many places.

Tom fired off two more rounds into its chest, where they thudded home, but did not slow it down. It began to walk forward and Tom stumbled backwards firing off another couple of rounds before the gun clicked, out of ammunition. The bullets opened wounds on its chest and shoulders, but it continued forward.

Tom dropped his pack and ripped the shot gun from it, waiting. It seemed to him that the creature couldn't see very well anymore, both eyes blood shot. Its feet were shuffling forward, almost uncertainly.

Tom tested the theory; if he didn't he was going to die anyway.

He raised the shot gun and pointed it at the monster's face. He waited another long, long second, before pulling the trigger. The bullets erupted from the barrel and the creature's head was completely blasted away. It faltered a moment and then fell heavily to its knees, before keeling over completely with a heavy thud that shook the ground.

Tom stared down at the beast, his legs weak beneath him and his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. He allowed himself to slowly slip down into a seated position as he stared at the two hulking figures he had shot… and exploded… to death.

After what felt like an hour he pulled a little food from his pack, ate some and drank a half bottle of water, almost in celebration of his survival.

Finally he put his things away, reloaded the clip of the rifle and started off again. He thought that whatever was going on around the cinema was over and had had nothing to do with The Family.

He started off towards the spot on his map marked, 'Hamilton's Hideaway'.


	16. Chapter 15

15.

Tom stood at the base of the jetty where it began, staring out at the world that it looked out at. There is no water lapping at the stilts of the jetty, as it had dried up in the heat of the wasteland, leaving the jetty to dry up and eventually wither away, the last sign that the world was once a wetter place, maybe even greener.

A lone skeleton sat on the end of the jetty, surrounded by bottles and cans, its fleshless grin fixed and leering. Who knew what the eyes that had once been housed in those empty sockets had last seen… were they burnt away at that very moment, or did they slowly turn to sunken eyes, filled with hunger and thirst? Did this person one day come down to this jetty and pretend that they were kicking their feet in the cool water of the lake… while their body and mind slowly faded away…

Tom found these to be the most disturbing things he could come across in the wasteland: the bones of the past, skin and flesh whipped away in fire and wind.

He jumped from the jetty and down into the dead and dusty lake. Following his Pip-Boy's map he soon found the entrance to what King had called 'Hamilton's Hideaway': a pair of gates that appeared to have been once part of a wire fence, nestled amongst a rocky wall.

On the ground in front of the gates were a chain and broken padlock.

He pushed the gate open and stepped down into the dark cavern behind the gates.

As Tom stepped in he found himself on a metal walkway that led down into the tunnels. It was eerily quiet with no sounds disrupting the stillness. Fluorescent lights, much like those from the vault, were set up and lit along the roof, casting sporadic light on the walkways. Tom switched on the torch on his Pip-Boy and continued forward. The tunnels were littered with trash including cans, bottles, boxes, paper and the occasional tire. He soon found himself descending a set of stairs as carefully and quietly as possible, keeping a sharp ear out for any noise. Nonetheless his feet made a hollow clanking sound every time they touched down.

At the base of the stairs the path kept going forward, with an option to turn right. He stepped over a spot where the walkway had collapsed to the ground, which was only a few inches below, and continued on, turning right.

He froze as he came across a body lying on the ground in front of him. It didn't smell too bad, so he guessed that it was a recent kill. The man was dressed in rags and his corpse was riddled with bullet holes caked in dried blood.

Tom spared only a small moment of consideration for the fallen man before stepping over him and bringing his rifle into his hands. After passing through several more cave tunnels Tom found himself stepping into what appeared to be man-made tunnels, with curved concrete walls and ventilation. As he moved through this new tunnel he encountered a handful of radroaches. Having faced much larger bugs in recent days Tom was not fazed and stepped on each of them heavily, revolted by the squelching noise they made.

He continued through the tunnel and passed several rooms on either side that seemed to be filled with old beds and cabinets… a few seemed to be disused classrooms, covered with dust and the furniture all in disarray. Tom wondered how this place had come to be…

It was not long after that before Tom came across a second body. This one was covered in radroaches to begin with before Tom kicked at them shooing them away. They scurried off and revealed what Tom could only perceive as the body of a raider: they wore a hideous gas mask, making them look insect-like, with huge eyes and a strange ventilated mouth. Tom couldn't tell from the body how the raider had died, but he suspected that when it came to raiders, they were often like roaches: Where there's one, there's more.

Sure enough, further up the tunnel Tom could hear voices coming from an open door, yellow light spilling from it. He carefully approached the door, sweat breaking out on his forehead, his finger on the trigger, waiting for a raider to walk out at any moment.

He was at the door and peering around the edge: the room was large and the door he was looking through was on the right hand side. A work bench lined the far wall and sitting with his back to the door was another raider, drinking from a filthy looking bottle with he placed back down on a table in front of him. On the left wall from Tom was another door, with another raider looking out the door, also with his back to him. Both were wearing the gas masks and for a moment Tom wondered if there might not be dangerous gases down in these chambers… but only for a moment.

He stepped forward, took aim and squeezed the trigger in one fluid movement, taking the head off of the sitting raider. He turned the gun and fired at the raider which had spun around from the door, and caught him in the shoulder. He crashed against a shelf full of what could only be perceived as junk and knocked some of it over. Tom stepped forward, the rifle still raised. The raider picked up a crow bar and started forward, but Tom squeezed off another round, this time blowing a small chunk away from the right side of the raider's neck. The raider dropped the crow bar and clutched at the wound, which was bleeding profusely, already soaking his clothes and rising over his fingers. The raider fell to his knees.

Tom stepped forward, his gaze cold and his finger on the trigger, "Were you the only ones down here! Answer fast and I won't take your head off!"

He could hear wheezing coming from behind the ventilator-mouth. The raider reached up and unclipped the mask, taking it off, revealing a pale face twisted in agony. He managed to mutter an answer, "We cleared out some wastelanders. Then Karni got drunk and went out to punch some radroaches. They got him first. We was it," he nodded to the now headless corpse that sat by the door, its hand still clutching the bottle.

Tom nodded, "Thank you," and fired, obliterating the raider's face, leaving only very little head left. "No mercy for monsters," he muttered.

Tom found his way back to the surface and was soon heading West, following the North bank of the river, towards the Northwest Seneca Station. He made sure to keep a good distance between himself and the water, fearing another attack from the strange crab-creature, the mirelurk.

The station itself was not far from Arefu, with the only problem being that it was on the other side of the river, and about fifty meters below it, on the ground by the overpass.

The entrance to the sub-station was surrounded by a small group of buildings, mostly stores, including one whose sign read 'Cornucopia Fresh Groceries', but these buildings were either totally derelict or boarded up. In the midst of them, concrete steps led down into the sub-station that led to the metro with a roof of glass, mostly broken panes, above it.

Tom walked down the steps and pushed open the chain link fence at the bottom, entering the dark lobby of the station. At the end of the lobby, whose floor was covered with papers and dirt, and to the left were turnstiles, with a doorway on the right. As Tom stepped forward he heard a snuffling sound, followed by a scurrying sound. Suddenly a handful of the pale, pinkish rodents from the farm house bolted from the right doorway, growling and heading for him. He fumbled a moment, trying to get his rifle into his hands.

Several loud _BANGS _filled the lobby and the creatures all stumbled and fell, blood spurting from wounds in their sides and heads.

Tom stepped forward and saw a ghoul in leather armour, like the man from Moira's shop, holding an automatic rifle in his hand. He had emerged from between the turnstiles.

"Uh... thanks!" Tom sputtered.

The ghoul nodded and growled, "Don't mention it. What are you doing down here smoothskin?"

"Barret, what the hell was that!" came a similar voice from behind Barret. He turned as a second ghoul, wearing a blood spattered white shirt and a pair of glasses came out, "What happened?"

"Just some molerats, Murphy," Barret replied, almost bored, "And a smoothskin."

The ghoul named Murphy looked around at Tom and almost seemed to cower, "You're not here to steal my secrets are you?"

Barret sighed and rubbed his brow impatiently and walked away, back through the turnstiles.

Tom shook his head, puzzled, "What secrets?"

Murphy's eyes went wide and he shook his head violently, "No secrets, no secrets, don't know what you're talking about. Say… you want to make some caps?"

Tom stepped forward hesitantly, "Doing what?"

"I'm making a new drug called Ultrajet. It's more potent than Jet, made especially for ghouls. Problem is the key ingredient I need is found in Sugar Bomb packets… and I don't get out much to look for them. You bring me some, I'll pay you pretty well."

Tom needed information, so he tried to reply as delicately as possible, "I'm sorry I'm not really… interested in working in that particular trade?"

"What trade?"  
>"Drug running."<p>

"Oh I see. You're a goody-two-shoes-smoothskin. You must be new out here, cos no one's a goody two shoes out here… least not for long," he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, dragging on the cigarette deeply. For a moment Tom was sure he could see smoke seeping out of a hole in Murphy's neck, but he tried not to stare as Murphy spoke, "So what are you doing down here, kid?"  
>"Are you and," Tom paused a moment trying to recall his name, "Barret the only two down here?"<p>

"No this is a hotel," Murphy replied, "Didn't you see the chauffer outside? Or the velvet ropes and front desk. Nah, me and Barret are just two of the many guests that walk these beautiful, elegant halls!" Murphy took another long drag, "Look around kid. People don't share out here. Only reason Barret's here is cos I pay him. To cut a long story short: yes, Barret and me are the only two living in this station."

Tom bit his tongue from replying with sarcasm just as sharp. Instead he said, "Well thanks anyway. I'll get out of here." Tom turned to leave.

Murphy called after him, "If you change your mind about the Sugar Bombs, come on back and we'll talk!"  
>Tom raised a hand in response, with no intention of returning.<p>

It was well past midday when Tom finally stumbled back into Arefu. Evan King was waiting anxiously by the sand bag barrier, "I heard shots not long after you left… did you find anything?"

Tom shook his head, "I didn't find Ian or the Family, no," he said, "but I came across some… other stuff. Some big crab thing and some huge monsters with green skin… and a ghoul run drug operation in the Seneca station. But no Ian… no Family."

"Well I don't know about no drug running ghouls," King said, "But your crab encounter sounds to me like a mirelurk. And those big green things… well there's only one thing out here that's big and green and that's a super mutant."

Tom looked at King quizzically, "Mirelurks… super mutants?"

"Mirelurks live down around water and such, usually in packs. Super mutants… well so far as I know they're mutated people. And they're mean… real mean."

"Yeah I got that," Tom said, "I found two up at the cinema. I'm lucky to be alive."

"Tom," King said, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder, "That's what we all tell ourselves at the end of every day. Lucky to be alive is the way of the wasteland kid. Get tough or die."

After speaking with King for a while Tom decided to take another look at the bodies.

"Go ahead," King had said, "Haven't had the heart, or the stomach to move 'em yet."

Tom entered the house, which stunk worse than ever and began to carefully look over the bodies, covering his mouth and nose with a rag. After a few minutes he began to notice something… dark smudges on the bodies and clothes. It looked to Tom like grease and soot.

He went back to King, "Evan, there's grease and soot or some kind of black powder on… on the victims. Does that make you think of anything?"

For a moment King's face was woefully blank, prepared to tell Tom that he hadn't the foggiest clue… and then his face lit up a little, "Actually yes: The Meresti Trainyard, sounds like the kind of stuff you'd get from touching those old trains and stuff."

"Can you mark it on the map."  
>Evan nodded and quickly did and then Tom was off.<p>

"You're not going now are you? Meresti's a far way off and you don't want to get caught walking out here in the dark!" King said.

Tom turned around, "Every second matters for that kid, Evan. He needs someone to rush for him."


	17. Chapter 16

16.

After passing through the remains of the outdoor cinema, covered in an orange haze by the sunset and crossing a bridge on the other side of the hill Tom was stepping into the Meresti Trainyard through a hole in the chain link fence. He had had to sneak past a small group of raiders on the edge of a small lake, whom seemed to dwell in makeshift sheds, mostly pieced together from pieces of scrap tin and wood. They had a disproportionate number of weapons though, which made Tom nervous. He wondered if they were preparing for something, and if Arefu were perhaps in danger from more than one enemy.

The trainyard was huge, dotted with hulking carriages, covered in rust and grease. There were four tracks, two each leading into square edged tunnels that led into the ground. One carriage lay on its side in the middle of these tracks, half buried in the ground.

Tom made his way quietly across the trainyard, the sun setting behind him. The main entrances to the tunnels were closed off by huge barred doors, but there was a smaller maintenance door that was unlocked. Tom made his way through a small room full of empty toolboxes and shelves, before stepping out into the vast train tunnel, which led down into the earth, devoid of almost all light.

Tom switched on the torch on his Pip-Boy and the light cast a ghostly glow on the tracks. He could see a barrel full of fire down by a tunnel that led off of the railway. Tom slowly made his way forward, keeping all his senses sharpened for any sign of danger.

A strange beeping noise caught Tom's attention. He looked down and saw a small round device with a flashing red light in the center. Instinctively he threw himself to the side, but was too late: the mine exploded and the force caught him in the air and tossed him against the wall. He fell to the ground, coughing and hacking. He hurriedly checked himself for any wounds, but he'd been lucky enough to dodge the shrapnel.

He got to his feet and kept his eyes on the ground as he slowly made his way forward. He was able to avoid an iron bear trap, its rusted maw open and waiting for someone to step in it. He picked up a stone and dropped it on the pressure pad, snapping the jaws shut with a spectacularly loud _CLANG_!

The sound bounced down the tunnel and had Tom frozen for a long moment. After no sound replied he stepped over it and into the small passage that led from that track to the next one. On the left, behind a chain link fence was a dormant generator. In the middle of the passage was a dirty baby carriage, its frilly edges singed. As Tom approached a strange mechanical crying started to emit from it. Tom took several steps back and watched in horror as the baby carriage exploded, throwing a wheel just past his eye.

Tom continued over to the next track and turned right after narrowly avoiding a second bear trap. Soon he was walking down a corridor of train carriages, his eyes pinned to the ground, watching for mines and traps. As he left the 'corridor' he stepped down on a wire he couldn't see. There was a small click and the trigger of a shotgun hidden beneath the carriage on the left, which was aimed up.

Nine pellets erupted from the shell. Tom was lucky enough to be on the far right, and only two pellets grazed his shoulder and the side of his head. He hit the ground, hands over his head. When the sounds settled Tom gingerly got to his feet and looked behind him at the smoking barrel beneath the carriage with wide eyes.

Finally, after turning down a second tunnel, still heading downhill, stepping over a second tripwire and narrowly avoiding a swinging trap similar to the brahmin head at the raider's B&B, Tom finally found himself at the end of a road far more dangerous than he had expected… and he hadn't even found the Family yet.

At the bottom of the slope was a wall of sandbags, similar to Evan King's, behind which sat a tall man with a rugged beard and wearing bulky armour. He spotted Tom and stood up and took aim with a small sub-machine gun, "Hold on there, kid. This place is off-limits to all but The Family. Turn around and go the other way. You made it through once, you can make it through again."

Tom shook his head, "I can't do that. I've got a letter for Ian West. It's from his sister."

"Oh you're here for the kid? Vance has been waiting for you. Go on through and the door is on the left wall."

Tom felt something tug at his mind… it was too easy.

"You stuck or something kid? Get a move on or I'll shoot you to kill time."

Tom shook his head and stepped around the wall, past the ridiculously tall guard and followed his instructions. He found the door and pressed a button on the left. The metal door, made up of several metal bars run through the main metal panels. The bars folded away and the metal panels folded down, all with a loud creaking and whirring. Tom stepped through the entrance and found himself in another train tunnel. On the wall in front of him was a sign that read: Red Line.

He saw light to the right, and followed it. As he drew closer, walking down the gently curving tunnel, he could hear the sound of a voice drifting down.

Finally Tom reached the source of light, stepping into a large and well lit station. Staircases on either side led up to a platform that sat above the tracks and led to both the left and right, presumably to areas similar to where he'd found Murphy and Barret.

On the ground floor, in the middle of the vast room, were several rows of benches, and a table in the middle of them. In front, in the center of the room, was a tall pew and standing behind the pew was a man. He stood tall and proud, adorned with a long leather duster. His hair was long and brown, pushed out of his grey eyes. His voice was strong and compelling and carried over his small audience of five or six.

"We are a strong people… different from those who walk in the day. We are smarter, quicker, more powerful and with far more attuned instincts. And yet it seems that we have been weak of late. I ask myself: Why is this? Have I led you astray… do you no longer trust my teachings?" He peered down at those on the benches: many averted their eyes. He looked up and spotted Tom. He looked back to his audience, "I leave you with this thought: We are strongest in love. Should we descend into anarchy, or resentment, we will deteriorate and become no better than the monsters they believe us to be. Go well, my Family."

The small number of people got their feet and dispersed across the room, some of them eyeing Tom. The man from the pew approached, "It has been some time since someone other than our own kind has stepped into these tunnels. Even longer since one has made it this far into them. My people call me Vance, traveler, and welcome to our home. Robert would not have let you pass unless you made a compelling argument… or else we would have heard the gunshots." He held a hand out and Tom shook it and shivered internally as he felt Vance's cold touch.

"I'm Tom. I'm here for Ian West."

Vance's eyes flicked from side to side, subtly, aware that at the mention of Ian's name, others had begun to pay attention. He looked back to Tom, "If you'd follow me, please." Vance turned and Tom followed him up the stairs on the left. They then turned left again, stepping up into tunnels that were very reminiscent of the Seneca station. They entered the first door on the left and Tom found himself in what was once an office of sort. The first room was a combination of office and kitchen, with a dividing wall between the two sections. The kitchen led into a small bathroom on the left. On the right was a third room, which Tom looked at curiously as he sat down across from Vance at his desk.

Vance caught the look, "That is mine and my wife's bedroom. Her name is Holly. But you didn't come here to discuss my marriage, did you Thomas?"

Tom shook his head, "I have a story to tell you, Vance, and I'd appreciate it if you'd hear me out."

Vance nodded his head calmly.

"I met a girl named Lucy West in a town called Megaton. Ian West is her brother. She sent me to Arefu to deliver a message to he and their parents… but I believe you're aware of what I found when I arrived."  
>Vance did not respond, nor did he object.<p>

"I offered to find Ian, for the sheriff… and I was prepared for a very violent confrontation when I arrived… but I seem to have stumbled on something very strange, Vance. So that's my story… what is yours?"

A strange smile crossed Vance's face, "My story is perhaps as strange as the part of yours that precedes your meeting of Lucy West, as I'm sure there is much more to your presence here. What is important, however, is this: those people you saw down there are travelers, people in need of guidance. Weary and, once upon a time, very lost. We have… cravings. I'll be honest with you Tom: we crave human flesh, and most of those who feel this craving do not resist it. Cannibals, you call them: unguided, I call them. They are ostracised, cast out by the rest of society, if not destroyed. I knew this when I began to feel the craving, and so I sought ways to fight off the cravings… and eventually I found the way. I have developed five simple laws for us to follow, in order to protect us from the abominations that dwell within us. We kill only our enemies, never our kindred: This is our justice. We dwell in the shadows, such is our refuge. We feed only for nourishment, never for pleasure, as is our dignity. It is our fate never to bear children, so as not to risk carrying our burden to a new generation. And our most important law, the one that truly defines us and separates us from what you call cannibals: Drink only blood, never feast on flesh. This, Thomas, is the true source of our strength. I would not expect you to understand, but this restraint, this exercise of will is what makes us so strong, and seals our bonds… it is what makes us The Family. Now tell me, Thomas, you know of our practices, our past and our desires… what do you make of us?"

Tom had sat and listened to all of this in perfect silence. Now he had been called on to speak… he took a moment before answering, "Vampires. That's what it sounds like you're trying to emulate, Vance."

Vance nodded, "It was there ways that I developed my laws from. They were grand creatures of the night, in lore. Cursed souls that rose only in the night to feed. We do not enter dwellings uninvited and we do not kill children."

"Forgive me, Vance," Tom said, "But butchered brahmin and a murdered family seem to contradict those laws."

Vance bowed his head, "The incident in Arefu was an extremely regrettable accident and those responsible for the… offences with the brahmin have been reprimanded. As for the death of the Wests… there is more to this than you know, Thomas."

Tom crossed his brow and leaned forward, "What aren't you telling me, Vance?"

"Perhaps the most important detail of all, Thomas. But the thing I must ask you first is how much are you willing to be told, knowing what you do now?"

"I'm not easily spooked, Vance… anymore."

Vance let a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth, "I can see you are one whom has changed much in a short time, Thomas. You're adapting very quickly to an alien world. I believe you are prepared to hear the truth about what happened in Arefu that night. We were raiding the town, as we were in need of nourishment… some of the younger ones got out of hand and killed the brahmin, much to my regret. I was on my way to reprimand them when I felt a familiar chill run down my spine. I could hear something, sense something. I followed these senses to the door of the Wests' home and I listened. I could hear screaming, choking and a struggle, followed by the scent of blood. I banged on the door and heard no answer, as I expected. As I'm sure you know there are occasions in all of our lives where principals and laws may be set aside when necessary: this was such an occasion. I kicked down the door and I saw him, sitting amongst his parents' blood, the boy I had spoken to on occasion by the river. He had spoken to me of cravings, he had asked me of my people… and I had told him the truth.

"Perhaps my advice was too little too late. That night he killed his parents, Thomas, fed on their blood, gave in to the desire that burned and screamed in his veins, his mind and his throat. Had I not intervened at the moment I did he would have fed on their flesh and been lost forever, beyond the point of salvation. I brought Ian here, letting my family feed on the remaining blood, and writing our name on the wall to hide any trace of Ian's guilt."

The room was silent. Tom leaned forward in his creaking chair, "Where is Ian now, Vance?"

Vance looked Tom directly in the eye, "I will take you to him."


	18. Chapter 17

17.

Vance had left Tom down the passage, past a set of turnstiles and to the end corner. The door was set in an alcove, a computer mounted on the wall beside it. Tom assumed a password had to be put into the computer to unlock the door.

"Behind that door lies what we call the Meditation Room. This is where Ian must remain until he has made his decision on what he wishes to do."

"I have to see him, Vance," Tom said.

"I can't allow that. He is at a critical moment in his life. The incident in Arefu has left him scared and confused. He needs solitude in order to choose the right path for himself."

"Ian still has family; he should be allowed to go them."

"_We _are his family now," Vance hissed, anger flashing in his eyes for the first time, "He must join us. Without guidance he will lose control and become nothing better than a cannibal."

Tom pulled the envelope from his pack and held it up for Vance to see, "This is the letter that Lucy West sent me from Megaton with. _She _is his family, Vance. He deserves to know about his family."

Vance gazed at the envelope for a moment before nodding. He tapped a password into the keys of the keyboard beneath the computer screen and the lock inside the door slid back with a heavy _click_. Vance stepped forward and opened the door, leading Tom inside.

The room was once a large tunnel, but had been sealed off on both sides by mounds of rubble. A table, chair and iron framed bed were all that furnished the room. At the other end a door led into what had once been a public bathroom.

Sitting at the table in the middle of the room was a boy who looked a few years younger than Tom. He was skinny, pale and his hair was thin and brown. There was a shadow of his sister's features in his own. He turned his head as they entered.

"You have a visitor, Ian," Vance said, "I'll leave you two alone a moment," as he said this he looked to Tom. Tom couldn't decide whether it was a warning look or cautionary look.

When the door closed Ian spoke, "Hello… who are you?"

Tom stepped forward, "My name is Tom. Evan King sent me to, initially, save you. I guess my job now is to make sure you do what's best for everyone."

"Did Vance tell you what I did?"

Tom nodded and Ian looked away, his eyes low and his mouth in a grimace. Tom noticed that his eyes seemed very dark in colour.

"Ian I can't say anything that will reverse what happened, but you need to know that you are not alone in the world."

"Yes we are," Ian murmured, "Vance explained it all to me, our strength, our fate, our dignity, our refuge and our justice. We bare a curse, for whatever reason, and I must recognise my isolation."

Tom shook his head, "Look, Ian, I don't know about curses or vampires or any of that stuff… but you are not alone. I was sent out to Arefu by your sister, Lucy. She wrote a letter for you. Here," Tom leaned forward and held out the envelope.

Ian eyed the letter warily for a moment before taking it. He opened it and read.

"She misses home… and me. She mentions me a lot actually." Finally Ian placed the letter down, shaking his head, "I was wrong all along. I should never have come here," he sighed, "Would you please tell Vance I've made my decision. I'm returning to Arefu. I'll pack my things, say good bye and we'll leave."

A few minutes later Tom approached Vance. He was on the platform above the station, watching over his flock, his travelers. A cigarette stuck out from between his middle and index fingers. As Tom approached he looked around, took one final drag and dropped the butt on the ground, smother it with his foot, "I assume you have something to tell me. Has Ian made his decision?"

"Before we talk about Ian we need to discuss the situation with Arefu. I can't go back there with the knowledge that you might attack them again."

Vance nodded, "As long as you continue with the same level of civility that you have handled yourself with so far, please go on."

"Ever since you mentioned blood I've been wandering about alternatives. Can you live off of animals?"

Vance shook his head, "All of the wild animals in the capitol wasteland are highly irradiated. The last one of us to attempt an animal diet ended up dying of radiation poisoning. I've advised against it since then."

"What about blood packs? Last time I was in a clinic I noticed a few around, so there must be a way for you to get to them."

Vance nodded, "I'm familiar with the alternative. When I was younger I used to scavenge blood packs from hospitals, but they are scarce, and no traders would ever associate with us. And those that would, would be warned against it by their guard."

"What if Arefu donates blood packs. You get a steady supply without the risk or indignation of violence."

"And what would we be giving in exchange for this, Thomas?"

Vance thought a moment, "Protection. If Arefu is donating blood to you, it makes sense that you would want it protected at all times. If Arefu were to fall your guarantee of blood would die with it. So protection in exchange for blood packs?"

Vance considered this for a long moment, looking out over the station, down at his people. He watched them all… finally he said, "Take the proposal to Arefu, Thomas. If they accept… then we have an accord." He held out his hand.

Tom shook it.

"Now tell me what Ian has decided. Do not fear reprimand from The Family… Ian's choice is his own and you would not be held responsible."

Tom looked down a moment before answering, "Ian has decided to return to Arefu."

Vance nodded slowly, "To lose one of my flock saddens me… but I believe everybody should be allowed to follow their own path. All I wanted to do was guide him, but it seems that responsibility has fallen to you. I wish you success in this. You've done much, not only for Arefu but for us… and you suffered much hardship to do it. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

Tom thought a moment… then he remembered something, "Are you aware of a band of raiders living down by the water's edge, just downhill from the trainyard?"  
>Vance frowned, "Well yes but we do not consume their blood… the drug and alcohol levels are very dangerous, so we've let them be. They are not threat to us. Why?"<p>

"When I passed them on my way here it looked to me like they were preparing for something… there were a lot of weapons. I'm concerned they plan to lay siege Arefu. If you and your… flock… could dispose of them, it would be greatly appreciated. It would be in the interest of Arefu's protection."

Vance thought for a moment, "This is not a light favour you ask."

Tom didn't respond, but waited for Vance to make his decision.

"I will speak to my people, tell them the situation with Arefu, the bargain, and Ian. Then I will put to them your request regarding the raiders. If they agree, we will go. If they do not… then I do not know what else I can do for you."

Tom nodded, "That's good enough for me."

Vance's flock had responded to Tom's proposal with mixed emotions, but none objected.

"As a favour to the one who has born us so much goodwill I have been asked if we would eradicate the brewing raider menace down on the lake. We are not an army, you are not my soldiers, and so I would not march you into battle like soldiers. Instead I ask you… would you march?"

There was a moment of silence. Eventually a young man, not much older than Tom, stood up and said, "Vance… you know that I was almost enslaved by raiders. You also know that I am dedicated to you and The Family. Clearly you believe we should destroy them… I would march."

A woman stood up, "So would I."

Soon it was clear that the raiders were in grave peril.

Night hung over the slope and the moon shone on the water of the lake. Tom and Vance crouched down on the ground next to each other, looking down at the raider's camp on the shore. There were now at least twenty-five of the strange haired and pierced deviants, and plenty of guns to go around. They milled about the several barrels of fire which had been set up and checked their weapons; guns, knives, crow bars and at least one flame thrower included.

Tom spoke to Vance in a low whisper, "If I had known there were going to be so many I would never have asked this of you. Vance it's not too late to call it off. It would be easier to just defend Arefu from them, rather than launch an assault on them now."

Vance shook his head, "You underestimate us, Tom. My family and I have a strong connection with the moon. She makes us stronger, faster and silent. Fifty would be cause to hesitate, but twenty is a trivial matter to us. Do you wish to descend with us?"

Tom nodded, "We're all fighting for the same thing aren't we."

They wormed their way back to the others. Altogether they were a party of seven. Ian had been told to remain in the station and their shopkeeper, to much quiet disgruntlement, had _chosen_ to remain behind.

Various models of automatic rifles seemed to be the weapons of choice amongst The Family, with the exception of Robert, Vance, his wife Holly and Tom. Tom was using his own hunting rifle, Robert was using a submachine gun and Vance was yet to reveal his weapon of choice. His wife, Holly, had two long, curved daggers in her belt. Tom was very curious to see how fast she was with them.

"They seem to be getting ready to move out," Vance muttered, "They'll take the bridge over the river and then make their way towards Arefu. I propose to ambush them on the bridge. Are there any objections?"  
>There were none.<p>

Vance nodded, "Tom, Holly and I will take the front; Robert, Alan, Brianna and Justin, take the back. One of them has a flame thrower, so make them your priority if you get a chance. Are we all clear?"

Several nods.

"Alright," Vance said, "Let's get into position, quickly."

Vance, Holly and Tom crouched low as they hurried across the bridge. In the middle Vance halted, waving at them and whispering, "Keep going; I'll be over there in a moment."

They obeyed and watched as Vance moved around in the dark, moving from one edge of the bridge to the other before hurrying over.

"What was that?" Tom asked.

Vance shook his head, "You'll see." They all ducked behind a boulder as the light of the flaming torches the raiders were carrying began to bob towards the bridge. They could hear coarse shouts and battle cries. It wasn't long before they were clamouring onto the bridge.

"When should we attack?" Tom whispered as they peered over the top of the bottom.

"You'll know the signal when it comes," Vance said.

The raiders marched in their own haphazard way across the bridge. The darkness obscured the grenades that Vance had scattered across the middle of the bridge, leaving them as shadows beneath their feet. A line, two inches off of the ground, tied across the bridge served as a trip wire, and was snapped unwittingly by the first raider. The pins were pulled on the grenades and in the fifteen seconds it took them to explode at least half of the raiders had crossed the halfway point. When they did go off with a deafening _BANG_ three raiders were injured, two were killed and a sixth was thrown off of the bridge entirely, breaking his neck in the shallow water below. The remaining raiders were whipped into an immediate frenzy.

"NOW!" Vance cried and he leapt over the boulder, drawing a long sword-like weapon from within his coat, which suddenly ignited. Holly followed after, drawing her knives and letting out her own fierce battle-cry. Tom was by their side, his rifle up and armed. He stopped at the bridge and took aim, firing off three rounds, taking out two raiders.

Vance leapt into the fray, swinging his terrifying weapon and decapitating two raiders of his own. Holly ducked, weaved and dodged as she moved amongst the raiders, cutting at legs, arms and necks. She was soon covered in arterial spray, which gleamed black in the moonlight.

As Tom continued to fire off the rifle he watched the other members of The Family cut down five more raiders. Suddenly a burst of flame erupted from within the mass and the scene was lit up with an orange glow for a moment. Tom spotted the flamer, holding the weapon in his burly hands, the gas tank on his back, and quickly took aim. He fired off a round and took a chip off of the top of the raider's shoulder. He cried out and spun around, flame spewing forth. Vance narrowly dodged the stream, swinging his blade wide and disemboweling a raider armed with a crow bar.

Tom took aim again and this time took a moment to center himself, eyeing the flamer. He let off another round, this time sending a bullet through the back of the gas tank and into the raider. He fell forward, crying out and dropping the weapon, which was immediately extinguished. The fuel from the tank leaked out onto the road.

After a five minute fire fight with the last handful of raiders, Tom and The Family walked through the bridge, putting bullets into the brains of survivors.

Vance and Holly were not amongst them. Holly's arm had been set alight by the flamer and she was badly burnt, though alive. Vance was cradling her as she panted through the pain, gritting her teeth. Vance was not in hysterics but it was obvious that he was deeply worried for her. One of them, Justing, had also been injured, taking a bullet to the shoulder, but he pushed on silently, helping them pile them rifle through the corpses, removing all valuables before piling the bodies on top of each other. Once this was done Vance and Holly came over. Vance glared at the mound before drawing his strange weapon. Tom had learned the name of the weapon, a shishkebab, from Robert. A mower blade attached to a motorcycle handle, a pilot light and doused in fuel made the weapon extremely lethal. Vance ignited the sword and touched the flame to the trail of fuel from the raider's tank, which led to the pile. After a moment the fuel ignited and a small flaming trail ran across the ground and straight up into the pile. There was soon a horrid smell of burning hair and flesh as the mound went up in flames, lighting up the wasteland night.

Vance glared at the pile for a long while. They only started back to the trainyard when Vance himself turned and began to walk back. As they did, Vance spoke to Tom once, saying, "It is creatures like them that remind me why we resist our demons: lest we become them."

Justin was quickly stitched up and Holly was laid down in hers and Vance's room, where her arm was treated with a balm that had been scavenged by Vance many years earlier, and had been kept by him for no clear reason that he could remember. With the aid of painkillers she was soon resting.

Tom approached Vance as he sat at her bedside, "I'm sorry for what happened."

Vance shook his head, "Don't be. She will heal. She fought well and strong, and would not have stayed had I asked her to anyway. Injury is a part of our life. She will heal…"

When morning broke Tom and Ian started off to Arefu. Vance watched from the shadows of the tunnel entrance as they walked off into the sun; Ian, a young boy and Tom, a young man. They seemed an odd pairing.

Within an hour they were walking up the Arefu ramp. Evan King spotted them early and came galloping down, "You did it! You crazy son-of-a-bitch you did it!"

After King got a good long look at Ian he started to talk, asking him questions, firing one after another off before Ian had to stop him, "Evan, please… if you don't mind I'd like to just… I'd like to put my parents to rest."

King's face fell and he nodded, stepping aside. Once Ian was well out of ear shot he turned to Tom, "I don't know how you did it kid, but you sure as hell did it! How many were there… how many are left?" he asked excitedly.

"All of them," Tom said.

King frowned, "What do you mean?"  
>"I didn't kill anyone, Evan. There are some things you need to know."<p>

Tom then explained to King everything, including the truth about Ian's parents and Vance's pilgrimage. After explaining the terms he negotiated and the act of good faith of wiping out the small army of raiders he stopped and waited for King to speak again.

It was a long moment, but finally King spoke, "So… we donate blood and they guarantee our protection?"

Tom nodded, "Pretty much."

"It's a little unorthodox but… it's a lot more than I ever hoped for… you seven of you killed twenty-five raiders? That's some fire-power. I'll talk to the other residents and get back to you."

An hour later King returned to Tom, whom had stayed where he was by the sandbag wall, gazing out at the wasteland.

"I spoke to 'em… they're a little suspicious… but you can tell this Vance fella that he's got himself a deal."

"You've made a good call here, Evan," Tom said, shaking the man's hand.

By the end of the day Tom had returned back from informing Vance of the agreement and with the news that at sundown he would be sending a young man named Alan to act as their protection. His last words to Tom before his departure had been, "I'm very glad to have known you Thomas. You've taught me a lot about the potential for human kindness. Our meeting has been… educational."

When he arrived in Arefu he relayed a message from Vance to King, "He said to tell you that Alan doesn't engage in their… feeding habits because he is still learning their laws, which is why chose him. He felt your town would be more comfortable with someone who hadn't… fed. Which reminds me… did you tell them what happened with Ian and his parents?"

King shook his head, "I told Ian that it's a hard thing for folks to understand… come to it I'm not sure I understand it all that much either. So I've told them that the West's death was not an act of violence but opportunism. They had both overdosed on drugs, a habit which they had kept hidden from everyone but myself, and The Family had been unable to let them go to waste. Their leader knew the boy from speaking with him by the river, and so took him under his wing, but now has been convinced to let him come back."

Tom nodded, "I'd say that's best. Well if this is all taken care of I'm going to head back to Megaton."

"One more thing," King said. He pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it out, "Ian wrote this for his sister. He asked that I hand it to you before you leave. He said it contains the truth. He cremated his parents this afternoon… on the edge of the overpass."

Tom took the note and placed it in his pack, "I saw the smoke," he said grimly, "I'll make sure Lucy gets the letter."

King nodded his head, "Much appreciated kid. Boy I'm so glad you walked up that ramp… I'm even gladder I didn't blow you up."

Tom smiled, "You and me both." He held out his hand, "Good bye Evan. I might see you again some time."

Evan shook it, "Don't be a stranger kid."

Tom nodded, turned and left.

His journey back to Megaton was blissfully uneventful and one night shorter. He was back in town the afternoon after leaving Arefu, exhausted and weary. But before going home he found and knocked on the door of Lucy West's home.

She opened the door and gasped as she saw Tom's face, which had still not healed from the repeated fights he'd found himself in over the past few days, "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Tom smiled, "I'm fine, but there were some complications in Arefu. I found your brother," he held out his hand, the envelope in it, "He wrote you a letter. It'll explain everything."

Lucy hesitantly took the envelope from Tom's hand, "Thanks… do you want to come in?"  
>Tom shook his head, "No thank you… I'm just going to go home and rest."<p>

A few hours later there was a knock on the door and Tom stirred awake, his body sore, but his intense thirst quenched by the last bottle of water in his bag. He stumbled down the stairs and opened his door to see Lucy, eyes puffy and red, standing before him, clutching the letter in her hand. She'd clearly been crying, "Why did you do it?" she asked, her voice thin.

Tom shook his head, "I don't understand… do what?"

"Ian said you… you tracked him down, you spoke to this Vance guy… convinced them to leave Arefu alone, got Ian to go home... you didn't have to do any of that, so why did you?"

Tom shrugged, still bleary eyed, "I really don't know, Lucy… I just did. I felt like I should, and then one thing lead to another. Things just turned out the way they-"

Suddenly his words were cut off as Lucy lurched forward and hugged him, "Thank you," she said between sobs, "You've done more than anyone else I know would."

Tom patted her on the back, "You're welcome."

After a moment Lucy finally let go of Tom and looked through shining eyes at him, "I'll see you around."

Tom nodded, "Definitely."

She sniffed, "Okay… that's good. Well good night Tom."

"Good night Lucy."  
>Lucy hesitated a moment before leaving, holding a sleeve up to her nose. Tom closed the gently on the chill night air and plodded back up the stairs to bed, where he fell and, for all intents and purposes, passed out.<p> 


	19. Chapter 18

18.

The next morning Tom woke up to the sound of Wadsworth hovering around downstairs, moving things around and apparently humming to himself. Tom felt incredibly sore and lay in bed a little while longer, but the heat of the day soon began to steal in through the gaps in the tin sheet walls. He hauled himself out of bed and rummaged through the various cabinets and shelves, searching for left over clothes that weren't stained with blood and mud, clothes that didn't smell like sweat and violence. He found a shirt, but no pants. He took off his own shirt and tossed the torn and stained rag in the corner, making a mental note to deal with it later. He slipped the new one on and made his way downstairs.

"Good morning sir!" Wadsworth said, turning his spherical head to aim an eye at him.

Tom nodded, "Morning Wadsworth."

"Can I be of service?"

"I'd love some water please."

"Certainly sir."

Wadsworth found a glass, cleaned it and filled it with clean, cold water. Tom drank deeply and greedily. After finishing the glass he placed it down and said, "I have a back pack upstairs, could you bring it down please?"

Wadsworth obliged and soon descended the stairs with the back pack in one of his metallic hands, placing it in front of Tom, whom rummaged through it, pulling out the pouch with his caps in it. He pocketed that and turned and stood up, "Can you fill the empty bottles in this bag with water and then empty the rest of the bag and put all the stuff wherever you think it should go."

"Of course sir," Wadsworth said as Tom headed towards the front door, "Good day!"

"Bye Wadsworth," Tom said, closing the door behind him.

He made his way down the edge of the crater and over to the clinic. As he walked he thought he heard a gun-shot in the distance, but ignored it.

He knocked on the door of the clinic.

"Get in!"

Tom smothered a smirk and stepped inside.

Church looked up from some papers on his desk, "What happened to you, you look like you got yourself into a fist fight with a super mutant? I can't fix stupid, kid."

"You told me to come in here to get those stitches out."

Church sighed, "Okay, well come over here, take your shirt off and we'll do this."

Tom walked over and sat down on the edge of one of the medical tables, slipping off his shirt. Church came over holding a pair tweezers. He took a quick look at Tom's figure and muttered, "You look like you've lost a little weight. I heard you were on the road. Didn't expect you to make it back with all that extra weight you were carrying in your ass and gut, thought for sure you'd trip over it and you'd get eaten."

"Well," Tom said, "I made it back."

"I can see that," Church tugged the first stitch out from his side. It felt uncomfortable, like rubbing your funny bone. He fought back the urge to flinch though.

After the fourth stitch was pulled out the door to the clinic burst open with Simms and two others carrying something between them.

"Church!" Simms yelled as they lowered their burden onto the table, stepping away with blood on their hands and clothes. They had carried a bloody and battered person into the clinic. Church was at their side immediately going over him, "What the fuck happened!"

"Stockholm spotted him getting the shit beaten out of him by some of the Springvale raiders. By the time I got there they were sticking him with knives and one had already shot him."

Church nodded but didn't answer. After a moment of furtively circling the man, ducking down, looking close and stepping back he rushed over to a cabinet and came back with a box full of needles. He wasted no time in plunging one into the inside of the man's thigh. He followed up with two more, both to his wrists. Then he strode over to his desk and came back with a bottle full of clear liquid that somehow didn't look like water, and small tin case. He opened the bottle and the smell of alcohol filled the room. Holding a thumb over the nozzle to stem the flow a little Church poured the liquid alcohol over the man's wounds.

One of the guys that had brought the man in with Simms flinched, "How is this guy not screaming right now?"

"Tranquilisers," Church muttered, "Somebody grab the bucket in the corner and bring it over. It's got clean water and a rag, clean this blood off of him and I'll start the suture."

Soon the blood was cleaned away and Church was pulling an alcohol soaked needle and thread from his tin case. He leaned over the man and began to sew up his wounds.

Tom gazed in amazement at the bloody scene, hypnotised.

Finally, an hour later, Church snipped the end of the last stitch and dropped his instruments in a tray. A thin layer of blood was smeared all the way up to his elbows.

"He gonna make it doc?" Simms asked.

"No broken bones, no major arteries severed… he should recover… I am a little concerned about head trauma, but I won't be able to tell for sure until he wakes up and either speaks or drools. Now Williams please do me a favour and go home and take your own stitches out, it ain't rocket science, you saw me do it."

Tom nodded, "What do I owe you for the ones you pulled? How many caps?"  
>Church waved his hand, "I don't charge for time, only expenses and taking out stitches doesn't require any expenses. Just go home and let me do what I can for this forsaken soul."<p>

Tom opened his mouth to say something caring, maybe even hopeful, but decided it would be wasted on a cynical survivor like Doctor Church. He instead nodded again and left the clinic.

The rest of Tom's day was spent up in Moriarty's saloon filling Gob in on what he'd been doing. They'd fall silent whenever Moriarty himself would venture out of his office, but this was not often. By the end of it Gob could barely believe the story, "Not bad for a vault dweller."  
>Tom shrugged, "Think I'd make it to DC now?"<br>"You've sure as hell got a better chance now than you did before. I never heard of _any _wastelander taking out two muties at the same time. You got something special in you kid."  
>"So that's a yes?"<p>

Gob nodded, "No time like the present. But think about making some caps around town first."

"Well I scavenged some chems off of that B&B, I was thinking about selling them off."

An expression Tom couldn't recognise crossed Gob's face.

"What is it?"

"You don't want to get known as the kind of person who sells chems, kid. Do yourself a favour and burn the fucking things."

"Not so fast."

Gob turned around and Tom looked around him as the familiar voice sent shivers up both their spines.

Moriarty stood in his doorway, a cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth. He raised a hand and beckoned Tom over with two fingers.

Tom and Gob exchanged looks.

"I don't have all day kid," Moriarty said.

Tom hesitantly stood up and walked around the bar. Moriarty stepped into his office and Tom followed. Once the door was closed Moriarty turned back around, "The only reason I put up with you sitting in my bar all day, distracting my ghoul and _not _drinking my booze is because you spin a good yarn, and good yarns keep the boozers boozing. They're listening whether you know it or not. But now you've said something that _I'm _interested in hearing about. You've got chems you want to get rid of, I've got clients who like chems. Bring them over and I'll pay you what they're worth. But if you ever mention this little exchange to anybody, one morning you'll wake up… well you won't wake up."

Tom nodded.

Five minutes later he was back in Moriarty's office, with Moriarty going through his back pack, placing each chem on his desk. Finally he tossed the pack over to Tom. Then after a moment of consideration he pulled a pouch from his pocket and tossed it over to Tom, "I want that pouch back… but there's seventy-caps in there, which is very generous. We're done here, get out and don't mention this to anybody."

Tom nodded, pocketing the caps and leaving, the crumpled back pack in his hand. He said good bye to Gob, whom eyed him with suspicion, and went home.

He felt dirty, having sold the chems, particularly to somebody as crooked and downright greasy as Moriarty. He made a promise to himself that night that he would never profit from chems in any way again.

The moon was high in the wasteland sky, shining white on the corrugated tin roofs. Nearly all in Megaton were fast asleep.

The drugs finally wore off of the man known by his companions as Razor around midnight. He stirred awake from the coma the pain killers and anesthesia had put him into feeling very groggy. It took him a moment before he remembered what he was there to do.

He quietly sat up on the table and tested his limbs. He could move fine, the boys had been careful. He got to his feet and looked around. Their doctor was asleep at his desk, his head sitting on the wood.

Razor thought about just cutting his throat right then and there, but he didn't want to risk any noise. He stepped lightly past, careful not to disturb anything.

Once out of the clinic Razor made his way to the front of the town, where he found the ladder that led up to the lookout above the front gate. He climbed it silently, stopping only once to look over his shoulder at the town sprawled out behind him.

He climbed on to the top platform and saw the sniper, the man that he and his people all deplored. He was sitting in a patio chair, the sniper between his legs and his goggles hanging out of his hand. He was sitting up straight, too tense to be asleep. Razor had often wondered if the fucker ever slept.

He approached quietly, treading as lightly as he could.

Razor was right behind Stockholm, his fingers itching to strangle him, ready, when Stockholm suddenly spun around, the rifle already whipped up into his hands, "What the fuck!"

Razor leapt forward, pushing the barrel away from his chest and cracked his elbow into Stockholm's face. The two struggled a moment before Razor finally knocked Stockholm down and hit the button that sat on the railing. The jet engine mounted below hummed and growled into life and the outer doors of Megaton howled as they lifted apart.

"COME ON IN!" Razor cried out and the bugs crawled out of the woodwork. At least sixty raiders crawled out from behind the rocks and hills that surrounded Megaton, rushing forward, crying out and firing into the sky, heading straight for the doors of Megaton.

The robot, which Megaton's residents knew affectionately as Deputy Weld, that guarded the town was knocked over and stepped on. They were armed with knives, bats, crow bars, pistols, shot guns, machine guns and every other kind of weapon that could be possibly scavenged from the wasteland. Chains rattled and battle cries tore through the air.

Razor, their planted fly, cheered and howled with glee as he watched his comrades swarm through the doors of Megaton, ignoring the pain in his body, feeling only the warmth of conquest.

He didn't hear Stockholm get to his feet behind him or load his weapon.

What he did hear was Stockholm shout out, "Hey!"

Razor turned around, the grin dying on his face as he remembered the sniper he'd hit but not beaten.

Stockholm glared directly into Razor's eyes from the other side of the platform, lifting the barrel of the sniper and taking aim, "The fuck are you laughing at?"

He squeezed the trigger and Razor's head disappeared in a mist of blood and brain, tinted black by the night.


	20. Chapter 19

19.

Harden Simms was woken from his sleep by the gunshots and the shouts. Thinking he was having a nightmare he lay in bed for a moment, frozen with fear, pulling his single sheet up around him, trying to hide away.

His hopes that it was all just a nightmare were dashed, however when his father, burst into the room, strangely lean without his duster and hat, but no less deadly with the revolver in his hand. "Harden," Lucas Simms shouted, "Come on and get in to our room!"

Harden didn't hesitate, leaping from his bed and running into his parent's room where his mother, wide eyed and shaking, dragged him into her arms.

His father was already slamming the door and shouting, "Lock it and don't let nobody in unless it's me!"  
>Julia Simms locked the door behind him and scurried back to the bed, holding Harden close and pulling a gun from the bedside table. The metal thing looked comically large in her small shaking hand. This in a way increased the deadly glint of its steel.<p>

Sheriff Simms was at the top of the stairs when his front door burst open and two raiders rushed in, shouting and firing off into the ceiling, probably assuming an unsuspecting household.

Simms quickly took their heads off with the revolver and rushed down the stairs, slamming the door closed. He up turned the dining table, using it as a barricade and crouched down behind it, pulling a rifle down from the shelf that ran along the staircase, along with a box of ammunition. He loaded the rifle and aimed over the edge of the table, waiting.

Soon his door was flung open again and he opened fire, sending the invaders scurrying for cover, leaving the door swinging open. They attempted to fire around the frame, but Simms fired off another couple of rounds, sending them back under cover.

Tom was woken by the shots, the same as everyone else, but wasn't sure for a moment what they were. Soon, though, he was on his feet, armed and ready.

He hurried out to the top of the stairs and arrived in time to see Wadsworth with his circular saw buried in the chest of a twitching raider, spattered with blood and placid, "It's rude to enter somebody's home without first asking permission." He removed the saw and brought a flame thrower around as more raiders closed in, beating them back.

Tom ran down the stairs and fired over Wadsworth's shoulder, taking out two raiders of his own. Once all the raiders on the platform outside the house were down Wadsworth turned off his flamethrower.  
>"Wadsworth, go back inside and kill any raiders that try to get in," Tom said.<p>

"Right away sir," Wadsworth obliged, hovering back into the house. Tom closed the door behind him and turned to see several more raiders running up to the platform. Tom took aim with the hunting rifle and took two down, but the other three were too quick. His rifle was knocked aside and he took a hard punch to the face. He stumbled back, dropping the rifle.

One of the raiders, a tall, broad shouldered and very sun burnt man, charged forward. Tom scrambled for his pistol and jumped when a flower of blood burst from his neck and he fell to the ground. Tom and the raiders whipped around to see a hulking figure leaping out of the dark, brandishing an automatic rifle, "Come here, assholes!"

The figure landed and fired off a few more rounds, ripping one of the raiders apart. The other caught Tom around the neck and lifted a rusted knife to his throat.

The man from the dark, heavily armoured and short haired, held his weapon up and kept the raider in his sights.

The raider slowly turned, keeping the blade pressed to Tom's neck. They were locked in a slow moving circle, with no end in sight.

A stroke of luck tripped the raider up and they fell backwards. Tom wormed out of the raider's grip and rolled out of reach of the knife. He was on his feet first and slammed his foot down hard on the raider's hand, grinding his curled fingers against the handle of the knife. He let the knife go and Tom kicked it away. He took the raider up by the scruff of the neck and threw him against the railing. The raider hit it hard, doubling over it, his torso swinging out into space. Tom wasted no time in gripping his ankles and vaulting him completely over the railing. He screamed for a short second as he fell, before landing with a wet _crack_.

Tom turned to thank the man who'd saved him, but he was already gone. Tom didn't waste time with wonderings, instead scooping up the blade and slipping it into his belt.

He turned and saw the raiders flood into the town, shooting up into the air and through windows, breaking down doors. Screams echoed through the crater. Tom grabbed his rifle, propping it on the railing, and fired off a full clip, taking out eight raiders and injuring two more.

He replaced the clip and started around to the platform that led to the ground, keeping the rifle raised and taking out raiders as they ran down the slope of the crater. A group had converged around Simms' home. Tom sprinted over, firing off more rounds, getting their attention. Some fell and the rest immediately turned and began firing back. Tom took cover under a platform, leaving himself out of view but unable to defend himself if they came after him.

Simms' table and wall were littered with bullet holes, but he was keeping the raiders at bay, conserving his ammunition as best he could. He was beginning to worry that there was no way out, that he might have to make a break for the bed room and do what he could for his family… either fight them off from the top of the stairs or save his family the _other _way… one bullet each.

This morbid train of thought was interrupted, however when he saw raiders running past his door, abandoning their cover. He watched one of them fall backwards in front of the door with most of the side of their head torn away.

Simms leapt over the table with a shot gun in his hand. He looked around the door frame and saw the raiders shooting after someone, completely forgetting him.

He raised the double barrel shot gun and fired. The raiders were so clumped together and close to Simms that three of the eight went down from the first shot alone. When the remaining five stopped and turned Simms fired again, leaving only two behind. Simms was about to duck back behind the frame to reload the shotgun when he saw Tom crawl out from under a platform behind them, rifle in hand. He fired off two rounds of his own. The first caught one of the raiders in the chest and he fell to the ground, clutching at the oozing wound and coughing. The other found its mark on the second raider's neck. The raider spent a little time choking before dying from either blood loss or drowning in her own blood.

Tom and Simms didn't waste time with words, reloading their weapons instead and then setting off into the town, clearing out the raiders. Megaton was fighting back valiantly, men and women both firing various weapons or brandishing any kind of object capable of dealing damage.

Tom watched in wonder as Gob appeared on the roof of Moriarty's, which was surrounded by raiders, and leapt down, brandishing two kitchen knives. He landed heavily amongst the raiders, knocking many down, and immediately began brandishing the knives with a skill and speed Tom would never have suspected. He displayed incredible strength as first two, then three and then finally four large raiders piled onto Gob, and he still stood up strong, slicing their throats, cutting their faces and stabbing their stomachs.

After the was cleared a little Nova stepped out, brandishing her own pocket knife and created a small massacre of her own.

Only when a small number of raiders made it past them and into the saloon did Moriarty himself appear. Moments after five raiders entered, one crawled out, his face covered in blood. Moriarty followed him, holding a pistol and puffing on a cigarette. He coldly shot out both of the raider's legs and then kicked him over to the edge of the balcony. He fired one more bullet into the raider's belly before nudging him off the edge with the toe of his boot. The raider fell and crashed down hard on the platform below.

Tom and Simms made their way down to the clinic. Tom went to open the door straight away but Simms caught his wrist and tapped a complex rhythm on the door with one knuckle.  
>"Hurry up and get in!"<p>

Simms opened the door and they leapt inside, firing a round off each behind them.

Once they were inside Church strode over, "Any follow you?"

Simms shook his head, "It's anarchy out there. We just needed to take cover for a second, get our bearings."  
>"No wounds on you?"<br>Simms shook his head. He turned to Tom, "You ready to get back out there?"

Tom nodded, sliding another clip into the hunting rifle, "This is my last clip though."

Simms opened the door and peered out. He saw one raider walking through the chaos. He seemed to be flanked by two others. After a moment Simms recognised the piercings, the tattoos and the hair.

"Boppo," he muttered under his breath. He turned and looked at Tom, "Stay here."

Tom opened his mouth to protest but Simms was already out the door and closing it behind him.

Simms marched calmly across the ground, heading towards the raider he'd called Boppo and his two guards, whom all had their backs to him. He checked his gun and found no rounds inside. He didn't have time to reload and tossed the gun aside. As he approached the guards turned and started towards him. He threw a punch forward, hitting the one on the left in the face, then punched the other, gripping his head and wrenching it back the other way, breaking the raider's neck. As he spun back he took the hunting knife from the raider's belt and stabbed it up through the other raider's bottom jaw and up into his head as he turned back to face them. Simms moved with the speed, strength and elegance of one who has done a lot of killing in their time, one who has a special gift for the work.

He let the knife go and stepped over the bodies, drawing his revolver and pressing it to the back of Boppo's head.

Boppo froze for a moment and then spoke, "I have devoured men twice your size. I have led battalions of ravenous fighters into towns and left them in ruin. I am more than a man, I am a God… and you think you can kill me?"  
>Simms listened to the speech, watching Boppo inch his hand stealthily towards the knife at his belt. Simms had to hand it to Boppo, if he hadn't heard of him before he wouldn't have recognised his speech for what it was: a distraction. He would have ended up with a knife in his eye.<p>

As it was he _did _know about Boppo's particular brand of distraction and so didn't let it get him off target, "I didn't think I could kill you… but now you're in my town. I _know _I can kill you."  
>Boppo's hand twitched toward the knife, the prelude to what would have been Simms' blood end had he not been quicker on the trigger. The revolver bucked backwards and Boppo's head disintegrated. The shot rang out through the entire town and everybody froze, resident and raider alike.<p>

Boppo's corpse shuddered for a moment before collapsing forward in a heap on the ground.

The raiders, blinded by the loss of their leader, immediately began their retreat, heading for the front gate. Of the sixty raiders that entered Megaton that night, twenty ran for the gates when Boppo was killed: seven made it out. The rest were mown down by a hail of bullets that pursued them from the platforms as they bolted for the door. Stockholm subtracted two from that seven himself once they passed the gate.

The residents of Megaton set about tending to the dead, cutting the throats of any raiders with heads left and finding those of their own that had fallen victim.

"DADDY!"

Simms' head shot up at the sound of his sons voice to see him covered in blood and tears.


	21. Chapter 20

20.

Simms was skidding to his knees and checking his son over within seconds. After finding no wounds he took Harden by the shoulders and looked with wide eyes into his son's own, "Harden, are you okay, what happened!"

Harden was struck dumb, his eyes unfocused and puffy from tears. Simms shook him by the shoulders, "What happened?"

Finally one word slipped from Harden's lips, "_Mum…"_

Simms was on his feet, Harden in his arms, and running up the side of the crater in no time, Tom and others close in tow. Soon they were in the sheriff's home and he had put Harden aside, holding the revolver in both hands and running up the stairs, calling out his wife's name, "Julia? _Julia?_"

Simms stepped into their bedroom. There was a body leaning against the wall with a large red, wet splat on the wall, flecked with grey matter, bone and small clumps of hair where the head should have been.

On the floor and leaning against the bed was Julia Simms, panting heavily and holding her hand against a wound in her stomach which was bleeding profusely. Her forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat and her eyes seemed to be staring off into the distance.

As Simms dropped his revolver and fell to her side he shouted, "GET THE DOC!"

"Lucas," she murmured. Her voice was weak and far off, "He got in… had to shoot him… wasn't… wasn't quick enough."  
>Simms shushed her gently, "Shhh, you did great baby."<p>

"Is Harden...?"  
>"I'm here mummy."<p>

The Simms' looked over Lucas' shoulder as Harden stepped in slowly.

"Come here baby," Julia said, forcing some strength into her voice, "Come here so I can get a look at you."

Harden hesitantly stepped forward and knelt down next to his mother. He forced himself to keep his eyes away from the dark red spot spreading on her shirt.

Julia gripped the hands of her son and her husband as her breathing began to slow, holding them tightly and feeling herself slowly slip away.

Harden lurched forward and embraced her, his head pressed to her chest, his own shirt now wetting with her blood. He sobbed silently and tears trailed down the bridge of his nose before dripping of the tip and onto their intertwined hands.

Lucas Simms held his wife's hand as tight as he could with both of his own. He wanted to shout for the doctor again, scream for somebody just to _fucking do something_… but he knew that there was no more time for that, and the time that was left shouldn't be filled with shouts…

Julia locked eyes with her husband… and then she slipped away. Lucas watched the light fade away from her eyes and Harden felt her chest fall and heard her last heart beat followed by the longest silence he would ever experience.

It was at that moment that Church ran up the stairs before stopping dead in the doorway. He stared down at the scene before him and his face fell.

"Lucas," he muttered.

Tears spilled from Simms' eyes and fell into his beard as he moaned low in his throat, trying to force back the tidal wave of emotion willing up inside him while his boy lay crying over the body of his wife.

Finally, though, he cried out his wife's name and let the flood rush forth.

Megaton was unable to pause to mourn the loss of the many beloved who fell defending it. By daybreak every surviving resident was helping to search and pile the corpses of the raiders outside the walls. Once every enemy corpse was removed the morbid pile was set alight, polluting the air with a dreadful stench. The cremation of Megaton's fallen residents was held on the other side of the town, outside its walls. The bodies couldn't be buried as they would attract wild life and make things more difficult for the traders that ran their route past the town.

A pyre was built for each person and set alight. Tom stood with Simms and his son while they said goodbye to their wife, their mother. She had been wrapped in cloth before the pyre was set.

By the end of the day the air stunk and the sky above the town was so black and smoky that the birds that usually circled above had vacated.

After the mass funeral a man that Tom recognised as his saviour from the night before approached Simms, "You might want to see this sheriff." He held out a piece of paper, "I found it on Boppo."

Simms reached out and took the paper. After reading it he looked to his son, "Get home, buddy. I'll catch up with you." His voice was low and without much energy.

Harden nodded and continued on wordlessly, his head hung and his shoulders slumped.

"Where did you say you found this, Jericho?" Simms asked, putting a name to the face for Tom.

"It was on Boppo," Jericho answered.

"Does it seem legitimate?"

Jericho nodded, "This is the way assholes like him operate. It was probably sent by mercenaries: Boppo probably never even met the bastard."

Simms handed the note to Tom, whom began to read it.

"It's a deal to attack Megaton," Simms said, "They were given some guns, some caps and a lot of chems. It's signed by Burke."

Tom looked up, his stomach lurching, "_He _did this?"

"Of course he did," Jericho snapped, "You pissed him off. You don't let assholes like that get away: you either shoot them, or do what they say."

Tom didn't know how to answer without eliciting another angry response.

Simms turned his head to the South and glared over the ridges and into the distance at some unseen enemy.

"You're not thinking of doing anything reckless, are you sheriff?" Jericho asked in a voice that suggested he almost wanted the sheriff to be considering something reckless.

Simms shook his head and muttered, "Of course not."

After a long tense moment Simms turned back to the path and walked back into Megaton. Jericho hung around, taking a cigar from some pocket that Tom hadn't seen and lighting it up in his mouth, puffing away.

Tom hesitated a moment before saying, "Listen, I wanted to thank you for last night."

"Well don't, cos I didn't do it for you. I did it for fun."

Tom frowned, "Fun?"

Jericho nodded, "Assholes like that got no professionalism, no finesse. They got no long term plans or goals, they just kill and fuck and shoot-up. Back in my day we did things right, fast and clean. Whatever blood we spilt was spilt quick: it was business. If we wanted someone's shit we killed them and took it. But these guys now… they're all a bunch of fucking morons. So yeah, I did it for fun, give them a taste of what it's like to be hit by a professional."

Tom took a small step back, "You're a raider?"

"Retired. Can you fuck off now; I've got a smoke to enjoy here."

Tom blinked and the sheer bluntness of the man who last night had saved him from being murdered and then decided to just get away from him. After stepping past him he headed towards the Megaton's entrance.

"Hey kid?"  
>Tom turned. Jericho wasn't looking at him but the cigar was in his hand now, "You care about that sheriff?"<p>

Tom nodded, "Well yeah. I would think everyone in this town does."

"Well if you really care," Jericho said, "Don't go to sleep tonight. Stay awake and wait around… cos he's going to go after that Burke guy and if he gets anywhere near that tower, he'll be shot down like a dog. Guys like Simms don't get too close to Tenpenny Tower."

Tom processed what Jericho was saying, but before he could say thank you Jericho spoke again, "Now fuck off."

Tom obliged.

Night fell and Tom stayed awake as best he could after the last exhausting twenty-four hours. He waited up until around midnight when he heard something crash outside. He stood on his bed and looked out the window to see Simms stumbling up hill in his duster. He was clearly trying to move stealthily and he was clearly intoxicated.

Tom grabbed his rifle and pistol and headed out after him. As he walked up the crater he found a shattered bottle on the ground and could smell whiskey wafting up from the glass.

He headed up and out through the front gates of Megaton. He couldn't see Simms and looked up to ask Stockholm, but realised that he'd been ordered by Church to spend one night recuperating from his injuries. Tom swore and opened up his Pip-Boy and used the map to help him head South. After about five minutes of stumbling over rocky terrain in the dark, wondering how Simms had done it, he found him. He was walking through the middle of a shallow rocky gully, humming a tune to himself. He had brought another bottle with him and was taking long swigs from it.

"Simms," Tom said.

The drunken mourning man stopped and turned. He wavered a moment, fingering the butt of his gun, before finally realising who it was, "Oh… it's you. Ain't you supposed to be looking for your daddy." His words slurred lazily as he spoke.

Tom climbed down from the edge of the gully and dropped into it, "I am… but Gob made the good point that there's no point trying to find him if I'm just going to die in the progress. Better to wait and make sure I'm strong enough for the journey… make sure I can do it right."

Simms turned away and started on his path again.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tom said, sprinting after him.

Simms whirled, around, "What do _you _think I'm doing! I'm going to kill the son-of-a-bitch who got my wife killed!"

"You're talking about Burke?"

"Course I'm talking about Burke! That bastard doesn't like our town so he kills my wife! That's all kinds of fucked up, Williams."  
>"I know Simms," Tom said, "It's completely fucked up but you're not going to get anywhere near him, Simms. You're in no state to be walking, let alone sneaking into some tower and killing somebody."<p>

"Why don't you mind your own damn business, huh?" he tried to push Tom away, misjudged and pushed the air and turned and started off again.

Tom followed after and grabbed Simms' shoulder, "Think about that town, Simms, they need you. You're their only protection."

Simms pushed Tom away and this time he fell backwards and rolled down the slope, cutting himself on the rocks. He stumbled to his feet and cried out, "_Think about your son!_" His cry echoed out into the wasteland and Simms stopped.

"Think about your son before you go running off into this god forsaken place, leaving him behind with no explanation and no warning; leaving him to wonder if you're alive or dead. You think about that and if you still want to leave… well then fine. Fuck you."

Tom turned and started to walk away.

"Tom?"

He stopped and turned, waiting for Simms to keep speaking.

"You say you're out here looking for your father… what about your mother?"

Tom shrugged, "Never knew her. She died giving birth to me… but I think she has something to do with why my father left."

"You angry at him… you know, for leaving?"

Tom thought about this for a moment, "I don't know… no, not really. Just confused. Sometimes, when I'm in a lot of pain, or I'm hungry or thirsty or tired I get a little mad that he'd leave, that he'd throw everything up in the air like that, our safe little life, and not even tell me why. But I figure he's got a good reason. But just because I'm not mad at him, doesn't mean what he did was right."

"Was it?"

Tom sighed, "I don't know… but I'm nineteen years old. I can take care of myself in this big bad world… how old is your boy?"

"Ten."

Tom stepped forward until he was right in front of Simms. He put a hand on his shoulder, "Then this isn't right. He needs his dad, Simms."

Simms bowed his head, putting an appreciative hand on Tom's wrist.

"Well that's real sweet," a voice drawled from out of the darkness.

Tom and Simms spun around as five men stepped out of the darkness with three at the edges of the gully above them and two at either end. They were all armed and heavily armoured and Tom and Simms were trapped.

"State your business," Simms muttered, most of the slur in his speech gone.

"We got word that some raiders had brought the hammer down on a little settlement called Megaton and our client told us to take a look at the progress… but we've also got a couple of individual contracts for people who look remarkably like you two men. This just isn't your lucky night guys." The man lifted his gun and pointed it down between Simms' eyes.

Suddenly a shot rang out and the man with the gun jerked back, dropping his rifle and stumbling backwards.

Simms and Tom wasted no time in lifting their own weapons and firing. The other two on the edge of the gully fell quickly. They turned in time to gun down one of the other remaining attackers and witness the gunning down of the other. They watched as a tall figure in a long coat, not unlike Lucas' own duster, and a wide brimmed hat twist the man's arm and plunge a knife into his throat. After a moment of shuddering and choking the mysterious stranger ripped the knife from the man's throat and let him drop. Without acknowledging Tom or Simms he climbed up onto the gully edge and walked out of sight for a moment. When he returned he had the leader of their would-be killers over his shoulder. He dropped him over the edge and he landed on his back heavily and let out a groan. His face was covered in blood, made black by the night and one eye was puffy.

Tom and Simms gazed up at the man on the edge. After a moment the man tipped his hat and started off.

Tom cried out, "Wait," and started after him, climbing up to the edge, but when he got to the top the man was gone.

He climbed back down and turned to Simms, remembering the story Willis had told him, the story about a wasteland legend, "Was that-"

Simms nodded, "I think it was."

After a moment they bent over the beaten up man left alive, "Talon Company Mercenary, judging from the armour and the mark on the shoulder," he pointed and Tom leaned in, noticing for the first time the white eagle's talon painted on the shoulder pad.

"Tenpenny's been known to use them," Simms muttered, "Contract killers, mercenaries… they'll do any job if you can pay."

The man moved his head, stirring and moaned.

Simms immediately drew his revolver and fired the bullet into his head, where it pounded straight through and into the ground.

"Nothing like a life or death situation to sober you up," he muttered, "C'mon, let's get back to town before all that ruckus brings someone or some_thing _over."

Tom nodded and the two set off back to town.


	22. Chapter 21

21.

The next day Tom walked down the crater's slope, avoiding the spray of water spurting from one of the thick pipes that ran through the town, which had been damaged in the attack, and down towards the Brass Lantern where he and Simms had agreed to meet the night before.

Simms was there, gnawing on another iguana stick and looking as though the events of the night had not occurred. Tom sat down next to him and Simms waved Jenny Stahl over, "You hungry?" he asked.

Tom shook his head, but when Jenny arrived to take his order he didn't want to waste her time and so asked for his own iguana stick. He didn't, however, expect to enjoy it as much as Simms seemed to be enjoying his.

"So we need to come up with a plan," Simms muttered, "Because you can bet your ass that Burke can pay off a round of raiders quicker than we can recuperate from the other night. If we want to keep this town safe we need to eliminate the threat."  
>"Ever been to this tower they keep talking about?" Tom asked.<p>

Simms shook his head, "Seen it from a distance though: looks pretty solid."  
>"Well then I guess the first thing to do would be to go have a look at it and see what kind of weaknesses it's got."<br>Simms chuckled, "This ain't no stroll to Arefu: it's a three day journey there, and that's only if you walk fast and don't get into a fight, and the chances of that kind of luck are slim. And you don't think you're going to be watched the moment you get within sniping distance of the place?"

"How about a little constructive criticism?"

"Don't you have somewhere you're supposed to be going?"

Tom hesitated a moment before answering, "I'm part of this mess now… and besides I might need my home sometime in the future and if we don't do something now there's no telling whether it will be here for much longer."

"So you want to go scope the place out?"

Tom nodded, "I've got the beginnings of a plan in my head, but nothing I feel like sharing quite yet. I need you to tell me where exactly this place is?"

"Show me your map," Simms said. Tom brought up the map on his Pip-Boy and held his arm out for Simms. He set a marker south-west of Megaton. Compared to the visual distance between Arefu and Megaton, the trip to Tenpenny seemed very daunting.

"That's a long way," Tom muttered.

Simms nodded, "Stock up well this time and get some caps around town. Walter, our guy in the water processing plant, is going to need somebody to help him out with the pipes. You probably saw on your way down that they aren't in the best of shape: bullets don't agree with them all that much."

Tom nodded, "Any other jobs you can think of?"

Simms scratched at his beard a moment and then sighed, "You're eventually going to hate me for this… but go talk to Moira Brown."

Tom knew the name and frowned for a moment, trying to remember where from, "The woman at Craterside Supply?"

Simms nodded, "You meet her mercenary? They say he never sleeps."

"What work would she have for me and why am I going to hate you?"

"She's a bit of an amateur scientist… likes to conduct experiments and such and she loves nothing more than a subject to test stuff on. She can usually cover the damages and put you back good as new, but she's a little unorthodox in her methods."

"Can you give me any specifics or are you just going to let my imagination run free?" Tom asked.

Simms chuckled, "Just go make some caps kid. I reckon a couple of days is all you'll need, some odd jobs here and there and you should be ready for your trip."

The water processing plant was directly upstairs from Craterside Supply. It was a simple building, made of sheets of corrugated iron held together by a framework of wood and metal.

Tom entered into a dark, loud room with large tanks, presumably filled with water being treated, in the middle and computer equipment up against the walls.

An old greying man in dirty and stained coveralls approached him, "I know you: you're that kid from the vault. How can I help you?"

"Simms sent me up, said you'd have some work for me."

The old man nodded and held out his hand, "I just might. Name's Walter."  
>Tom shook his hand and gave his own name.<p>

"Some of the pipes running through town got hit by the raid. I've got some complications with the machinery up here… I tell you if folks knew just how bad things were up here, well… I don't know. But I'm fully booked up here, so no time to go down and fix them pipes myself. If you could do it, there'd be a handful of caps in it for you."

Tom nodded, "I'd be happy to help."  
>Walter scrounged around for a moment in his office in the back of the room before returning with a bright red tool box, "Everything you might need'll be in here, bring 'em all back in one piece."<p>

It took Tom little more than an hour to find the three leaks and patch them up. When he returned Walter thanked him graciously and handed him two hundred caps, adding, "If you've ever got any scrap metal lying around, bring it over and I'll give you a fair price for it. Can never have too much scrap metal lying around here."

Tom said he would and then made his way down to Craterside Supply.

He walked in and Moira, whom was sweeping the floor, looked up immediately and beamed, "Well if it isn't our local vault hero! How are you, Tom?"

Tom smiled awkwardly, "I'm fine Moira. I heard you might have some work?"

Moira gave an exaggerated sad smile, "Aw shoot! I had a position open for an assistant but somebody came in yesterday and took the job. Sorry," she shrugged.

"What do you need an assistant for?"  
>Moira dropped her broom and ran around behind her counter, ducking down and then reemerging with a large notebook in her hand, dropping it down on the counter, "I'm so glad you asked. I'm doing research for a Wasteland Survival Guide, something to help people out there learn how to keep themselves alive in the harsh climates. Isn't that just great?"<br>Moira was chattering at an incredible speed and Tom barely had enough time to process the information and nod and smile politely before she shot off on a new sentence, "I have a store to run, obviously, so I hired an assistant to do the research for me."  
>"So there's nothing I can do?"<p>

"Well," Moira hesitated, "I sent my assistant off immediately to research a couple of sections… I don't expect him back for a while. There is one thing you could do for me?"  
>"What's that?"<p>

Ten minutes later Tom was sitting at a table with several pitchers full of irradiated water, taken from the puddle around the bomb, sitting in front of him. Moira was hovering around him, recording his pulse, temperature, pupil-dilation and several other random bits and pieces of information.

"Tell me again how giving myself radiation sickness helps?" Tom said.

"I want to study the effects and test my cure on you," Moira said, scribbling something down after pinching a hair away from Tom's scalp and inspecting it.

The Geiger counter on Tom's Pip-Boy was ticking ominously and Tom could see things floating in the pitchers of water, "And how much do you need me to drink?"

"Well one pitcher would be good… three would be great!"

Tom stared at the pitchers and seriously considered, in that moment, bolting.

"Alrighty-roo, are we ready?"

Tom swallowed and nodded.  
>"Start drinking then, just pace yourself. We want to give your body time to absorb the radiation," her sickly sweet voice was starting to put homicidal thoughts in Tom's head.<p>

He reached out and took the first pitcher in his hand. After giving it a long careful look he was beginning to think he couldn't do it… he decided to remind himself of how thirsty he was, how much water he had in front of him, and he could drink as much as he wanted.

He took a long draught from the pitcher, trying to ignore the dirty, metallic taste, and then placed it down, having drained at least a third from the pitcher.

Moira immediately began buzzing around him, barraging him with pokes, prods and pulls, inspecting everything from his teeth to his fingernails.

She gave him the clear to take another drink and this time he took half of what was left. She did another round of inspections and then let him finish the pitcher.

Finally, after her third round of tests, Moira leaned in, smiling broadly, and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Well," Tom said, licking his lips, thinking they felt strangely dry, "The headaches sure make it hard to focus… and there's a bit of itchiness. Nothing traumatic, but I still don't feel all that fun."

Moira offered to let him stop but he shook his head and grabbed the second pitcher, "Might as well do this right."

As Tom gradually drained the other two pitchers his vision began to blur, he began to sweat profusely and he became increasingly nauseated.

After finishing the third pitcher his Pip-Boy was ticking like crazy, a noisy electronic cicada.

He could barely see a meter in front of him.

"How do you feel?" Moira's distorted voice fought its way into his mind.

Tom tried to stand for reasons he couldn't fathom. He was trying to force the words, 'Just do your examination and fix me' out of his mouth, but he collapsed forward and bounced off the table, landing heavily on the ground. The pitchers all tumbled to the floor and shattered and the last thing Tom remembered seeing was a small piece of the shattered glass spinning in a circle in front of his eye, seemingly in slow motion, light glinting off of its torn, sharp edges…

When Tom finally woke again he was lying on a bed in the corner of Moira's office. His entire body felt like lead and his head was throbbing painfully. He gingerly moved until he was sitting up, and his entire head began to spin violently. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight the wave of vertigo and nausea, groaning out loud.

Moira came clattering up the stairs that led down to the shop, beaming widely, "There's my big strong test subject!"

Tom flinched away from her voice, but she apparently didn't notice. She rushed over and pressed a bottle of water into his hand, "Here, sip at this: you're dangerously dehydrated."

Tom didn't hesitate from lifting the bottle to his lips and almost wept at the taste of clean, clear water. His body immediately began to feel stronger, though his stomach was still doing flips. He forced the bottle away, not wanting to make himself sick, and said in a harsh, raspy voice, "What the hell happened? I feel like I can hear my genes screaming and abusing me."

"Well you were an absolute trooper," Moira gushed proudly, "You drank all three pitchers… and then you collapsed and started convulsing so I gave you my experimental cure. I concocted it from iodine and turned into an intravenous treatment. Pumped some of it into you and for a second there I wasn't sure it was going to work… then you started throwing up all over the place and I was kind of worried that I'd killed you 'cos you were sweating an awful lot too. After you finished though you were still breathing, so I did some tests and I've come to this conclusion: my cure pretty much gets your body to completely evacuate itself of any radiation, by any means necessary. Your sweat was radioactive!  
>"I cleaned you up as best I could and gave you some fluids and watched you slowly get better. You slept for twenty-four hours."<p>

All of this completely washed through Tom's head, simply confusing him further. He only had one real question, "Am I better now? Am I fixed?"

Moira hesitated, "Well… yes…"

"What is it?"  
>"It seems the radiation gave you a… teeny tiny mutation."<p>

Tom looked up and glared into Moira's eyes, "What kind of mutation?"

"Well I couldn't do too many tests to find out, but it seems that when you're highly irradiated, your body becomes super regenerative. All those scratches and bruises and stuff you had are all gone. You're almost as good as new! So if you do get radiation sickness, at least we can be sure you won't die of anything else!" Moira beamed again and Tom was once again struck by awful thoughts of murder.

His distaste for Moira was dispersed, somewhat by her generous three hundred cap payment, along with several syringes full of her cure and some other anti-irradiation chems, some for prevention, some for healing, "Only use the cure if circumstances are absolutely dire!" she chimed.

Tom nodded, making a mental note to never touch anything Moira invented again.

He walked out of Craterside Supply to find that it was midday. He went home and asked Wadsworth to fill as many bottles as he could find with purified water. He then spent the rest of the day purchasing supplies. He bought enough food for two weeks from the Brass Lantern and then walked around town, trading caps for bullets with the residents: most of the weapons recovered from the raiders had ended up simply being looted, rather than being placed in the armoury.

Soon he was back down to just over one hundred caps, but was armed to the teeth with bullets for his rifle, pistol and shot gun. He'd also gotten four grenades for a bargain from an elderly couple, Nathan and Manya Vargas. Manya was pleasant and quiet enough, but Nathan spent as much time as he could trying to romanticise the Enclave for Tom's benefit, whom he felt didn't quite understand the dream Eden had.

Tom had a feeling that the only reason he got such a good deal for the grenades was his mindless agreement with everything Vargas proclaimed, and his promise to tune in to the Enclave and let them guide him a little.

Nevertheless, by the end of the day Tom's bag was absolutely full of water, food and firepower, ready for the long perilous road he had in front of him.  
>Tomorrow he would start his march to Tenpenny Tower.<p> 


	23. Chapter 22

22.

By ten past six the next morning Tom was striking south west of Megaton, moving along the wall and then off into the wasteland for his second major journey.

On the first day he encountered nothing more than a handful of what he'd heard Megaton locals describe as bloatflies. Large insects with a green outer shell and a brown underside, armed with six spiny limbs, spikes and a pink, gaping mouth. At the end of their bulbous abdomen was a cloven tail with two claws protruding from the end. The creatures, though grotesque in appearance, were little more than a nuisance at first. They hovered around amongst the sporadic patches of leafless trees, emitting high pitched squeals.

Tom's pistol was at his side constantly and when the bloatflies suddenly decided to turn their attention to him he popped them out of the air with little effort, but not before being forced to jump out of the way as one of them seemed to shoot a brown gelatinous substance at him. Upon closer inspection the ooze was covered in spines. Tom could not guess at what exactly the stuff was.

The rest of the day was uneventful and Tom spent the night camped out at the base of a pillar holding a piece of the overpass in the air. The surroundings were far too familiar for Tom's liking, remembering the incident with the wild dogs, though he did, eventually fall asleep, albeit with a tight grip on his pistol.

The next day, somewhat rested, Tom set off again. The terrain became hilly and rocky, with several outcrops topped with bare trees along the way. As the terrain rose and fell Tom could occasionally see a shape in the distance, tall and angular. He could only assume that this was his intended destination.

While cresting one such hill Tom suddenly found himself looking down at a small band of raiders, two armed with automatic rifles, the other with what looked to him like a flame thrower. The group was walking at a leisurely pace through another patch of trees.

Tom could sense that he had an unlikely opportunity on his hands. He set his pack down quietly and brought his rifle, which he had slung across his back, around and into his hands. He took careful aim, regulating his breathing and concentrating hard. Finally, after what seemed like eons of waiting, he fired. The fuel pack on the raider's back exploded, engulfed in brilliant flame as the bullet hit home. The other two raiders were throw off their feet and burnt as the third plummeted to the ground and screamed, writhing as the ignited fuel seared their skin, before finally falling still.

Tom had already fired and killed one of the fallen raiders before the other got to their feet and started firing back, but Tom still had his focus: he dropped the last one, the bullet tearing through their chest.

The Bed & Breakfast near Arefu had done something to Tom… he could no longer see raiders as people: now they were just targets.

He picked from them what he could, finding a handful of bullets, some food and a very heavy revolver that was, unfortunately, empty. He pocketed his meager spoils and continued on past the burning site.

After another few hours of walking the sun had almost set and Tom was standing between two wreckages that had once been houses sitting on an outcrop on a dusty hill. The street that remained in the middle, a cross section, was empty, save for one lone, dirty and empty pram: a desolate and disparaging reminder of what could never be again.

Of course there would be children, and parents… but there would not be a quiet walk through a friendly neighborhood again; not for a very long time.

This, of course, was not something Tom had to face. Tom had never known the world that was destroyed. He only knew two worlds: the vault and the wasteland.

Tom found a spot amongst one of the wrecked homes to settle for the night. Behind it, on the other side of the dry, small valley that Tom had crossed, was a seemingly empty building, made up of several levels, square and official looking, set against the gentle slope of the valley.

The night was filled the sounds of footsteps and breathing: some animal, some human.

Tom, for his part, remained calm, his eyes inspecting every shadow that moved but unmoving himself, desperately holding himself still unless absolutely necessary, his pistol in his hand and held close to his chest. There was little sleep in that second night.

As the sun rose the shadows dissipated and the night sounds were replaced by the sound of the dry wind.

Tom rose with the sun, stretching his muscles which were no longer concealed by the cushioning that soft, vault living had left him with. He no longer looked like a vault dweller: now he looked like a well fed wastelander, lean, muscled and wary. His body had coped with the extreme changes well, as had his mind.

Tom finished climbing the slope of the valley, towards another section of the overpass. This part was perhaps the most damaged he had seen. On the right there were some pieces still standing, but for the most part the road had completely crumbled and fallen to the ground in piles. To the left a great slab of the road still remained, one side buried in the ground, the other still held in the air by its pillar, creating a massive ramp.

Tom moved past the overpass and could then see two buildings in the distance, one being the tower and the other something that looked a little like a factory crossed with an office building.

The overpass rode the last ridge of high land before the terrain fell away to a barren plane, one which Tom dreaded crossing. He travelled down the slope and was, after a few hours, approaching the first building, which he could now see had the huge letters ROBCO on the side.

As the sun began to set for the third time on his journey he found himself at the bottom of a billboard that seemed very grim to him: It was an advertisement for the vaults.

'_Vault secure!_' the slogan said, captioning a picture of a long line of people calmly filing in through a vault door in the side of a mountain, from which beams of hopeful light shone. And, of course, the Vault Boy winking and giving his thumbs up to the reader.  
>Behind the billboard was a tall, steep mound of boulders which Tom spent the better half of thirty minutes scaling, falling several times, before finally swinging his pack over the lip and onto the top. When he eventually hauled his own sorry carcass over the edge the sun was setting and a cold breeze was slipping off of the plane. The top of the mound, he found was a sort of nest with a gentle curve in which he could curl up in, out of view and relatively safe from random predators.<p>

Though he did keep the pistol close, Tom finally got something more than four hours sleep for the first time in the journey.

Passing the Robco building the next morning was unpleasant. Tom felt as though he was being watched as he crossed through the desolate and vast car park in front.

Finally he was past it and Tenpenny Tower was getting closer, though he first had to cross the plane. This took most of the day, and Tom went through a great deal of water in doing it, but finally he was close enough to make out the details of the building.

The sun shone brilliantly and yellow on the windows, almost becoming blinding. The building was thirteen stories high, rising in tiers, thinning out as it got taller.

As Tom approached the back of the building was on his right and the front on his left. The back wall was covered about halfway up by metal sheets, held together with girders. The twelfth floor seemed to be the only one with balconies.

Tenpenny Tower was surrounded by a wall ingeniously made up of huge slabs of concrete, undoubtedly taken from the overpass, stuck in the ground and pressed up against each other, making an impenetrable wall of iron reinforced concrete, the iron skeleton sticking out in rusted, bent fingers around the edges. The wall looked like a row of rotten teeth, or a graveyard, each slab a gravestone, crooked and pushed by the elements.

The walls of the tower itself were elegant, yellowed stone, with roofs tipped by sharp, thin spires.

As Tom made his way around the edge of the wall and towards the front he began to hear an argument.

"You can tell Tenpenny to kiss my ass! We've got plenty of caps! Let us in goddammit!"  
>Tom rounded the corner, listening to the unbelievably rough voice to find it belonged to a ghoul, covered in leather armour with an automatic rifle across his back. Parts of his skin were as white as paper, which contrasted grotesquely with the thin mop of bright orange hair on top of his head.<p>

Tom couldn't see who he was arguing with but he did hear a tinny voice respond, "How many times do we have to go through this? You're not getting in."

The ghoul growled, "I can stand hear yelling at you through this damn speaker all day if I have to!"

"I've already told you: Tenpenny won't allow zombies to live here. He doesn't like 'em and his tenants don't like 'em."

"Watch it kid, we don't take kindly to that word."

"For the last time, Phillips: No zombies allowed!"

"Can't you tell the difference between me and a feral?"  
>"Not a damn difference between you, as far as I can see."<p>

"Fine, I'll show you the difference, just you wait. You'll get yours, all of you!" The ghoul turned and stormed away from the front, glaring at Tom as he did so.

Tom approached, seeing that the front entrance, flanked by a concrete wall, was an iron gate. On the left was a small speaker with two buttons. Tom hesitantly pressed the left button and a buzzing sound erupted on the other side.

The voice quickly returned, angry and irritated, "I thought I told you to get the hell out of here, Tenpenny doesn't want your goddamn caps and I don't want the goddamn headache. For the last time, get your rotting, ugly, goddam ghoul ass off of Mister Tenpenny's Private property!"

Tom listened through the short tirade before pressing the right button and responding with, "I hope that's not how you treat all of your guests."

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else. Renters and official business only."

"I'm here to see Mr. Burke," Tom said.

"Is he expecting you?"

Tom bit his lip, considering whether or not to lie. After a moment he decided to evade the question entirely, "Tell him Thomas Williams from Megaton is here to see him."

"If you think I'm going to bother Mr. Burke just on your word-"

Tom cut him off and smacked the butt of his pistol on the front gate, making it rattle. He didn't use the intercom, opting, instead, to simply yell, "If Mr. Burke finds out I was here and you didn't let me in, it'll be your head buddy!"

There was a long pause.

Tom licked his lips and crossed his fingers, hoping that he'd made a convincing argument and that he had _not_, in fact, just pissed of the Tenpenny Guard.

Finally a buzzing sound started and the iron gates swung open, revealing the front garden of Tenpenny Tower.

A dry round fountain sat in the middle of the path to the front doors of the building, which were made of an ornate carved wood. On the right was what Tom assumed served as the guards quarters, a sheltered area with a handful of beds, a table and some chairs.

On the left was an area with several tables and chairs and a handful of residents, eating and drinking tea while chatting. On either of the iron gates, walking in, were low walls made up of sandbags and the entire area was littered with brown shrubs.

A man approached Tom from the left as he walked in, wearing thick armour and a rifle slung across his back, "Name's Chief Gustavo. I radioed Burke and he said to send you up. When you get inside walk straightforward and tell the receptionist that you're going to see Mr. Burke; when she asks for a password say grasshopper. You got all that?"  
>Tom nodded.<p>

Gustavo stepped forward, "I'm going to need your weapons. Burke insisted."

Tom considered denying for a moment, before sighing and handing over his pack, pistol and rifle.

"Relax," Gustavo said, "Everything will be here when you get back."

Tom continued on and stepped into what he now realised was a pre-war luxury hotel.

Entering the room he immediately noticed the shining, golden chandeliers and the patterned stone floor. On either side of the entrance were velvet ropes and pillars as well as a handful of pot plants. Looking forward Tom could see the reception desk, an elevator behind it and staircases on either side of it. A balcony ringed the room, allowing visitors from the bottom two floors to walk right into the foyer.

Tom approached the reception, eyeing the golden haired receptionist cautiously.

"Good morning and welcome to Tenpenny Tower," the girl said in a sickly sweet voice, "How may I help you?" She finished the sentence with a wide grin, flashing her white, straight teeth.

"I'm here to see Mr. Burke," Tom said.

He didn't see it, but the girl's hand was already fingering a small handgun under the desk, waiting for the first sure sign that something suspicious might be going on.

"The password please?"

"Grasshopper."

Her hand slowly slipped away from the gun, unnoticed by Tom, "Okay, please go into the elevator behind me and head for the top floor. Is he expecting you?"

"Gustavo let him know," Tom said, walking around the desk and over to the elevator. He pressed the up button and the doors slid open. The floor matched the red velvet ropes and the walls each had a mirror on them. Tom pressed the button for the top floor and waited as the machine rattled and hummed. His stomach lurched as the carriage moved upwards. He'd never been in an elevator before, but he wasn't stupid: he could guess what they were for and how they worked. Still, he hoped that he hadn't somehow pressed the wrong button.

The elevator settled and stopped, there was a pleasant ding and the doors slid open to reveal Mr. Burke, hands behind his back, already waiting for him.


	24. Chapter 23

23.

Burke smirked and his voice sounded like the purr of a hungry jungle cat as he spoke, "Mr. Williams, I was hoping we'd see each other again soon; never, though, would I have ever dared to hope you would walk right into the lion's den."

Tom tried to keep himself from panicking.

"When Chief Gustavo told me that a Thomas Williams wanted to speak with me it struck me odd that you might think you could possibly challenge me here, and then it occurred to me: you're not here to challenge, are you Mr. Williams?"

Tom shook his head, "I think we got off to a bad start in Megaton… some regrettable things happened… and I missed out on a very rare and great opportunity."

Though it wasn't possible, Tom could swear the shine on Burke's glassed seemed to glint hungrily, "Go on."

"When the town realised that you sent the raiders after them I realised that I was on the wrong side: the losing side. They barely made it out of that attack alive. I would like to do what I can to clear the slate between us, Mr. Burke; I think a very profitable business relationship is to be had here."

"Do you now?" Burke purred.

"I hear you have a ghoul problem," Tom said, "I'd be happy to take care of it for you in exchange for a second chance."

"You're business is not with me alone," Burke said, "If this plea is genuine, then you will have to take it to Mr. Tenpenny," he raised a hand, "Follow me."

Burke led Tom through a door on the left of the elevator and through the room behind it, which seemed to be a small, square sitting room with a garden in the middle, cornered by pillars.

Another door led out into the bright, harsh world.

The balcony ringed the tower and gave a spectacular view of the wasteland, with the Robco facility to the left, what looked like an old petrol station with a red rocket out the front to the right and the hilly ridges in front, topped by the crumbling overpass.

Leaning over the balcony with shining, deadly looking sniper rifle was an old man dressed in a crisp, clean maroon jacket and tie, along with a white shirt, pants and black, knee high boots. All in all he looked completely out of place against the backdrop of the barren wasteland.

As Tom and Burke stepped out onto the balcony the old man fired off several rounds from the sniper, chuckling to himself, "I think I got a molerat in the leg, Burke!"

"Very good, sir, you have company."  
>The old man looked around, his white hair ruffled by the breeze. He saw Tom and stepped away from the balcony, placing the rifle against it, "Is this the boy you described, Mr. Burke?"<p>

"It is," Burke said, "This is Thomas Williams."

The man held out a wrinkled hand, "Allistair Tenpenny."  
>Tom hesitantly shook Tenpenny's hand. The man still hadn't quite brought an emotion other than wariness forward yet.<p>

"So you're the would-be protector of Megaton, that little eyesore on the horizon?" Tenpenny said as he turned away and moved over to one of the red, velvet chairs, which sat by a table with a chessboard on top. His joints cracked audibly as he sat down, but he seemed to not feel anything, "You know you caused Mr. Burke quite a lot of trouble, young man. Not a lot of people stain his suit with his own blood… and live to talk about it."

Tom was getting the gist of what was being said. He had a lot of nerve showing up.

"What is it you want," Tenpenny asked, "I assume it's interesting or else we wouldn't have met and you'd be bleeding somewhere."

"I would like to make amends," Tom said, mustering as much respect to his voice as he could, "I would like to clear the air between us so that we may develop a healthy business relationship."

"Pretty words from a pretty boy," Tenpenny said, "You know what I do up here boy? I shoot, Wasteland Safari, for the most part of the day. Anything that moves I shoot and I've got quite an eye for it. I can take the antennae off of a bloatfly from up here… unless you want to be the next big game in the safari, get to the point."

Tom licked his lips, "I hear you've got a ghoul problem. I'll take care of it in exchange for a second chance."

"Take care of it how?"  
>"However you deem fit."<br>Tenpenny eyed Tom for a moment, "You really think you can take out a nest of ghouls all on your lonesome?"  
>"Either they die which means they're dealt with," Tom said," Or I die, which means <em>I'm <em>dealt with."

Tenpenny considered this, scratching at his wrinkly neck. Finally he said, "Bring me Roy Phillips' head, or whatever part of it is left on that rotting carcass he calls a body, and I'll consider you a loyal employee."

Tom nodded, "Thank you, Mr. Tenpenny. I won't disappoint."

"Of course you won't," Tenpenny crowed, a smile on his lips, "You'll either kill my enemies or you'll die as my enemy!"

As Burke escorted Tom back to the elevator Tom asked where the ghouls were hiding.

"In the Warrington tunnels," Burke said, "You can get into them through the trainyard, which is west of here."

Tom brought the map up on his Pip-Boy and held it out, "Think you can mark it down?"  
>Wordlessly Burke labeled a spot on the map.<p>

"How do you intend to proceed?" Burke asked, pressing the button for the elevator.

"Well running in, guns blazing, would definitely get me killed," Tom said, "But it should be done in a week, maybe just over."

"You have a plan?"  
>Tom smiled, "The beginnings of one."<p>

After collecting his pack and guns at the front gate, Tom immediately started heading west towards the trainyard. It was a short journey, compared to his others, stepping over the crumpled chain link fence and into the yard only an hour after setting out.

The tunnel itself was closed up, with a service door set into the wall. The tracks leading out from it lead to the right and under some platforms. Sitting on top of the tracks was one rusted and tilting train, three carriages long, lying under the platforms, as though waiting to be tended by the ghosts of its maintenance crew.

The entire area sent chills up Tom's spine as he cast his eyes around: he felt as though he were being watched.

Finally, rifle in hand, Tom turned his back on the ghostly train and entered the tunnels through the service door.

Once through the maintenance room he found himself in the train tunnel and facing a sign on the opposite wall that said 'Blue Line'. Tom headed right, following the line he came to a section where the line went into two directions, down two different tunnels. The first one was a dead end, with rubble and barrels of what Tom could only describe as green ooze piled up in it. He headed down the right tunnel, the Geiger counter ticking ominously as he passed the barrels. Suddenly he heard a noise and froze, the rifle rising in his arms. He stared ahead, waiting for something to happen… then a shadow began to rise from some of the wreckage strewn across the tracks; at first it seemed to that a skeleton had come to life, but he began to see the thin, browny-grey skin stretched tightly over the seemingly fragile figure beneath. Then the thing let out an awful, gurgling hiss, a noise that echoed through the tunnels and gave Tom a moment of sheer terror, and for a moment he was almost pushed to the point where he would turn and run. The creature, no doubt a feral ghoul as Gob had described, spread its disturbingly thin arms wide, choking out its half hiss, half roar, its toothy mouth wide and evil sparks glinting in the seemingly hollow sockets of its eyes.

The whole moment moved so slowly that Tom was able to raise the rifle and fire before the creature could do more than announce its presence; he pulled the trigger and sound bounced off the walls, almost deafening him. The ghoul collapsed immediately, cut off mid-hiss, its limbs flailing like a rag doll hit with a baseball bat.

Tom switched the light of his Pip-Boy on and started forward, slowly, his heart still racing and his brain still conjuring more ghouls from the shadows, though these were no more than imagined monsters in his head: the real creature lay dead at his feet, a bullet hole just off the center of its chest, it's mouth agape and its claw-like fingers curled.

Then the silence was broken by two more horrific hisses, followed by the sound of fast feet patting on the ground. Adrenaline rushed through Tom's system as he lifted the rifle again, the light still on. He caught a brief look at the fully illuminated face of the feral, its hungry mouth open, its hands reaching and its white, lifeless eyes hunting, before he pulled the trigger and the creature was thrown away from him, saving his life by inches. Its last living companion had been further away and Tom quickly found it and put it down. The three gunshots in the enclosed space had left Tom's ears ringing and the smell of gunpowder and blood in the air.

Tom slowly made his way through the tunnels, guided by dead ends and through maintenance rooms, encountering several more of the feral ghouls and coming to some very close calls. One creature had fallen and then gotten back to its feet after taking a bullet to the brain. The second shot had torn its head apart.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, but was in fact less than one, Tom stepped back into a train tunnel and found himself facing a wall with the sign 'Blue Line' on it, and scrawled beneath in red, 'The Revolution Starts Here' with an arrow beneath pointing to the left.

Tom turned his head, spattered with ghoul blood, and saw that there was a station to the left, the entrance flanked by barrels full of fire. He headed on through, stepping into the mostly broken down station, gazing at the make shift walls and sections, built up out of wooden frames and tin sheets, topped with barbed wire.

On the platform above a voice called down to him, a voice like several others he had heard: a ghoul's voice, "Alright smoothskin, you made it past the guard dogs. Put your weapons down, and no funny business, unless you want to get shot."

Tom looked up to see a pale ghoul looking down at him and pointing a small submachine gun at his head. He slowly crouched, placed the rifle down and then slipped his pack off of his shoulders and placed it down next to it. He subtly shifted his shirt over the butt of the pistol, which was at his hip.

The ghoul wore a biker's helmet, complete with goggles, on his head, "Get up here."  
>Tom did as he was told, scaling the long stilled escalators up to the platform, his hands in the air.<p>

"Put your hands down, you look ridiculous, this isn't a hold up," the ghoul muttered as he approached. Once he was close enough he leaned in and almost whispered, "What are you doing here? This place isn't safe for your kind."

"I'm here to see Roy Phillips," Tom muttered.

"Is he expecting you," the ghoul asked, "Because Roy doesn't like unexpected visitors."

"He's going to want to see me," Tom said, "Trust me."

The ghoul considered this a long time before saying, "If you're here to cause trouble, I'll eat your heart out. We _all _will, we'll make a banquet of it."

Tom smiled, holding his hand out, "I don't believe in zombies. My name's Tom Williams."

The ghoul hesitantly shook it, "Michael Masters. No trouble or Roy will kill us both. Got a bit of a temper, that one. Watch yourself. He's downstairs."  
>Masters led Tom back down the escalators and through a door behind the platform. He led him through a few more rooms, down another tunnel and then into a new section of maintenance rooms before finally leading him into a room that was obviously some kind of community bunk room. Lined up against the walls were beds, some bunks, most of them singles, or just mattresses: all filled with a sleeping ghoul. Over in one corner was a double bed with two ghouls, one of which Tom recognised as Roy and the other a small, presumably female ghoul with thin wisps of bleach blonde hair still trailing from her scalp.<p>

Michael went over and gently shook Roy, "Roy, there's a smoothskin here to see you; says it's important."

Roy's eyes snapped open and he looked right into Tom's, "I recognise you. I saw you outside Tenpenny's. What do you want?"

"Roy Phillips," Tom said, "Burke and Tenpenny sent me here to kill you."


	25. Chapter 24

24.

Phillips sat up in his bed, watching Tom warily. Finally, after a long moment, he let out a long torrent of laughter which echoed in the room, waking the other ghouls from their own slumber. They began to stir and look over to see what was going on.

Finally, after he'd finished laughing, Roy said, "Well you're doing a pretty piss-poor job of it! You thought you'd walk in and announce your presence and then everything would be smooth sailing? You came to the wrong den, smoothskin."

Roy stood up and started to approach, joined by several other ghouls, all of them looking anxious to break the tension.

Finally Tom spoke again, "I said I was _sent _to kill you, I didn't say I was _going _to kill you. I'm here as an ally."

This made Roy pause, "And what incentive can a manicured smoothskin like yourself give me to cooperate with you in any way?"

"You want to get into Tenpenny Tower and I want Burke and Tenpenny killed. I can't just walk in and kill them, I'd never get out alive; but if I help you get in and start a siege I'll have a chance to kill them both. We have mutual interests, Roy."

"Maybe," Roy muttered, "But why are you so interested in them?"  
>"They're trying to destroy a town called Megaton, where it just so happens I live. Burke also has a contract out on me and I figure his death will revoke it."<p>

"Why'd he put the contract on you?"  
>"I shot him."<br>Roy chuckled, "You really do have some balls on you." He held out his hand.

Tom shook it, saying, "In the spirit of full disclosure I think I should tell you that I… shot… a few of your, uh, feral brethren."

"Don't worry about it; I got no compassion left for those mindless freaks. But they were a nice deterrent keeping out smoothskin bastards like yourself."

The crowd of ghouls began to dissipate and go back to bed, except for the woman whom had been with Roy. She stayed by his side.

"We've got some planning to do then," Roy said, "Let's have a good old fashioned talk in the war room."

The war room turned out to be a small, bare office with a mouldy looking pool table in the middle, surrounded by chairs.

Michael left to get Tom's pack and guns and the woman introduced herself to him as Bessie Lynn.

When Michael returned Roy started talking, "Did you get to scope most of the place out when you were there, kid?"  
>Tom shook his head, "I was being pretty carefully watched the whole time and I don't want to go back unless I've got something to give them. Tenpenny wants your head as proof.<p>

Roy grinned, "That's easier to arrange than you'd think. Well lucky for us Michael knows the place; used to vacation there, pre-war."

Tom looked over to Michael, "Is there a back way in?"  
>Michael nodded, "There is a sort of escape passage that leads from the basement into these tunnels. You can open it from the generator room, but I assume they would keep it under lock and key."<br>"That security asshole probably has the key," Phillips muttered, "Get it off him and we'll be fine."

Tom nodded, "I'll find a way. So once I open that door, what happens?"  
>Phillips grinned wickedly, "We let our 'feral brethren' go first and tear up as much as they can and then we back them up with guns and knives."<br>"What if they decide that I look tasty?"  
>"There are ways around that. The biggest question is how do you think you're going to kill two of the most powerful men in the wasteland at once?"<p>

"I've got time to arrange for something, but let me worry about that."  
>"You're not too bad with planning, smoothskin," Roy muttered, "How long have you been thinking about all this?"<br>Tom smiled, "I'm pretty much making it up as I go along. I need to leave tonight, while it's dark. I'll be gone a couple of days, but when I get back I need your head."  
>Roy nodded, "I've got some ideas."<p>

Tom left that night, under the cover of darkness, skirting wide around Tenpenny Tower. This time he didn't wander forward, but powered. There was little time to waste. He no longer stopped the moment the sun went down, instead waiting until his limbs refused to carry him any further. Within two days he was back in Megaton and speaking with Simms.

"You look haggard, kid," he chuckled, "You've been doing some work."  
>"I have," Tom said, "and now I need your help."<p>

Tom explained his full plan to Simms, everything he had told Roy and everything he _hadn't_.

When he'd finished he waited for Simms to respond.

After a long moment he said, "That's a big plan with a lot of holes."  
>"Apparently that's my style," Tom said, "Can you do it?"<p>

Simms nodded, "I've got some friends north-east of here I can get to come down and hold the fort. How much time have I got to get where you need me to be?"

"Six days at the most, I could maybe push it to seven, but after that Roy will start getting antsy."

Simms let out a low whistle, "That's gonna be one hell of a push. Luckily you're talking to a man who's been doing this a long time."

"You can do it then?"

Simms nodded and clapped Tom on the shoulder, "I think we've got a hell of a week in front of us. I'll send word for my friends now. You get yourself some supplies and get to where you need to be."

Tom nodded and after making a quick trip around to the Brass Lantern, Craterside and his house, to get water from Wadsworth, he set out again with the same speed with which he had arrived.

By the time Tom arrived back at the Warrington tunnels he was seriously fatigued. Roy told him to rest before talking tactics because he would be 'a useless lump of shit' in the state he was in. Tom didn't argue much and fell asleep on one of the spare beds.

When he woke the next day (the clock on his Pip-Boy confirmed that he'd slept for almost ten hours) he was starving and parched and wasted no time in draining half a bottle of water and wolfing down an iguana stick. He'd grown very use to the texture and taste of the barbecued lizard, and was almost starting to enjoy it.

He and Roy sat down and he explained that the arrangements had been made and that now all there was to do was wait a few days before going back to Tenpenny. He needed to give Simms as much time as he could. He'd listen for the signal in two days.

Roy left the room to get something. When he returned he dropped something heavy on the table. For a moment Tom couldn't quite see what he was and when he did he fought the wild urge to throw himself away from the table.

There, mouth agape, was the rotting (and Tom suspected slightly chewed) head of what had once been a red headed man.

"After you left I went out and found a raider with the same kind of look. Cut his head off and left it in the sun a while; some wildlife got to it, took some of the skin, the nose. Then after I let the ferals play with it a little. I think it'll serve its purpose."

Tom nodded, staring at the thing, "It's certainly convincing."  
>Roy laughed, "When do we get in?"<p>

"Start posting someone outside every day. When you hear four gun shots coming from the Robco building," Tom tapped his knuckles on the table once, then twice fast, and then once again, "in that pattern it'll be time. You'll hear it in the morning, which means we move that night."

"How long might it take for this signal to come?"

"It could be a few days, but it's important that we _do _wait for it."

Roy reluctantly agreed and handed Tom the head, which he gingerly slipped into a bag. He shook hands with Roy, Michael and Bessie before leaving, saying "I'll see you soon."

Tom pressed the buzzer on the speaker and Gustavo's voice answered through it, "Business and tenants only."

"Gustavo, it's Tom Williams. I've got business with Burke and Tenpenny."

The gate immediately opened and Tom stepped in, giving Gustavo a courteous nod. Gustavo told him the password and Tom thanked him, heading into the building.

He quoted the password to the receptionist, whom eyed the foul smelling sack in Tom's hand, but, nonetheless, let Tom through into the elevator.

Burke was, once again, waiting for Tom when the elevator doors slid open, "The vault dweller returns," he said with a smile, "Am I to assume the contents of that sack are a gift for Mr. Tenpenny."

Tom nodded, "Not easy to get. I think he'll like it."

Burke led Tom through to the balcony, where Tenpenny sat with a cup of tea in his hands. When he saw Tom he beamed, "Well now, it seems the boy has made good on his promise. Burke would you please bring out the contents of the sack?"

Tom handed the sack over and Burke reached in. He pulled the severed and mutilated head out by the few strands of red hair still left.

Tenpenny's eyes gleamed as he stared at what he thought was Roy Phillips' head, "It feels splendid having that thorn pulled from my side. And how many were there in those tunnels?"  
>"Some ferals and about twelve others," Tom said, "Their guard stopped me, but I was able to overpower him. They were asleep when I finally found them all. I won't bore you with the rest of the details."<p>

Tenpenny stood and offered his hand, "I think we can consider this a job well done, don't you, Mr. Burke."

"He's certainly come good on his part of the deal."

"And I am a man of my word," Tenpenny said as Tom shook his hand, "Consider yourself an employee and resident of Tenpenny Tower, Mr. Williams."

_And that is who I would be, _Tom thought to himself as he shook the wrinkled, cold hand, _I would be _Mr. Williams _if I were to choose this life. Like Mr. Burke and Mr. Tenpenny; a formal name for a formal monster._

"Burke would you please arrange for Mr. Williams to be given the key to the other suite," Tenpenny said.

Burke nodded and left.

Tom thanked Tenpenny graciously and spent the rest of midday with him and Burke, when he returned and handed him his key, listening to them discuss possible ways of launching 'Roy's' head into the air in order for Tenpenny to practice his skeet shooting.

Tom spent the next few days either in the café, where, he learned, Gustavo always got his coffee before the night watch, or outside, listening out for the signal. He would spend the nights sleeping in a chair in his suite, with its clean water and expensive sheets. He never slept in the bed, rarely ever touched it.

Three days after handing the head over to Tenpenny Tom heard the four shots, in the right pattern, echoing over from the Robco building: they would move that night.


	26. Chapter 25

25.

Tom was on his way down to the café for lunch when he was pulled aside by an older man with a grizzly white beard and wearing a vest.

"They're saying you killed that group of ghouls from the Warrington Tunnels," he said, "Is that true?"

Tom hesitated a moment before answering, "I performed a service for Mr. Tenpenny and Mr. Burke; why?"

The man shook his head, "Did you even _try _to find a peaceful solution?"

Tom frowned, "Why does it matter to you so much, sir?"  
>"Young man, I'm Herbert 'Daring' Dashwood… haven't you realised that?"<p>

Tom shook his head, "I've never heard of you, I'm afraid."

The man was thoroughly perplexed by this, "Well that's just… well anyway, the point is I knew a ghoul named Argyle, once, and he was a very dear friend of mine. Take it from somebody who knows: a ghoul is only as bad as the way he is treated. It may not be a popular notion, but I happen to believe it."

Tom looked around a moment before taking Dashwood by the arm and pulling him even further aside and whispering to him, "Get out of here now."

"Are you threatening me boy?"

Tom held up his finger and shushed him, "No. The ghouls are alive and I'm helping them get in tonight. If you're still here they'll kill you."

Dashwood was shocked, "What have you done?"  
>"I made a deal. Now get out of here."<p>

Dashwood opened his mouth to say more, then decided otherwise and headed off. There was much gossip around the hotel that afternoon about the abrupt departure of the resident celebrity, Herbert 'Daring' Dashwood. Many a chuckle was exchanged over the notion that had left in order to have one last adventure.

Tom could say little on the subject, but hoped the old man survived the wasteland.

It was getting close to five in the morning when Tom walked out of the hotel, his backpack slung over his shoulder and striding over to where Gustavo sat slumped in his chair. His coffee mug lay on the ground, the last of its contents spilt on the ground.

Tom had 'accidentally' bumped into Gustavo at the start of his shift, knocking his coffee over. As an apology Tom fetched him a second cup; what Gustavo didn't know was that Tom had laced the drink with an experimental chem he had bought from Moira. She had originally tried to design something that would simply relax the subject, but it ended up far more potent than she intended.

This had been perfect for Tom's needs.

Now Gustavo was fast asleep, his mouth hanging open, and wouldn't wake for another few hours.

Tom silently searched the guard's pockets before finally coming across a key ring. He pulled it free and then made his way around to the back of the building, past a small target range with crudely made dummies fort targets.

The door to the generator room was at the bottom of a set of stairs that led down into the ground. Tom fiddled with the keys a moment before finally finding the right one and opening the door.

The stairwell automatically lit up when Tom opened the door and he descended, passing through several rooms and corridors before finally finding the room he was looking for. Mounted on the metal wall was a computer terminal, its monitor glowing green. On the right was a heavy looking door and on the left was a small opening through which Tom could see the room beyond through the crisscrossed bars that covered it. Standing in the room was Roy and his gang, including Bessie and Michael.

Roy spotted Tom, "Hey kid. That computer there will disengage the locks to that door there and the door to the basement of the hotel. When you unlock them you, Michael, Bessie and I are going to take the guards out in front of the hotel and then we're going to let the ferals loose inside."  
>Tom nodded along and then looked over at the computer terminal. He pressed a few keys before realising the machine required a password.<p>

"The computer's locked," Tom said through the bars.

Michael walked over, "I'll guide you through hacking it; do exactly as I say."

It took five minutes for Michael to guide Tom through hacking the terminal, but they eventually achieved it and the locks on the doors sprang back.  
>Roy, Michael and Bessie immediately stepped through and the four of them made their way back outside.<p>

"Got a knife?" Roy asked as they walked.

Tom shook his head.

Roy pulled a kitchen knife from his belt and handed it to Tom. "We need to do this quick and quiet," he muttered as he pulled his own long hunting knife from his belt as well, "Don't want to get caught in a fire fight before anything even happens. It'll be dawn soon; the ferals go nuts at dawn, the transition from night to day freaks them out."

There was one guard for each of them. They all snuck into position, with Tom standing behind Gustavo.

Roy raised his arm and made a fist, bringing it down, the signal to strike.

Tom closed his eyes and pressed the blade to Gustavo's throat, drawing it across the skin as hard as he could. The skin and muscle gave easier than he feared and Gustavo immediately began to shudder and choke.

Tom stepped back fast, not wanting the blood to get on him and he watched the guard topple over, his blood mixing with the coffee on the ground.

Tom looked over to see the ghouls already walking back. Roy looked Gustavo over, "That's a pretty clean cut, smoothskin. Not bad," he looked over to Michael and Bessie, "Let the ferals into the hotel."

They left and Roy and Tom moved over to the front doors of the hotel.

"Here," Roy said, pulling something from his pocket and tossing it to Tom, "Michael's idea."  
>Tom used the light from his Pip-Boy to inspect what looked like pieces of skin roughly sewn together to make a macabre mask.<p>

"It's a ghoul mask," Roy said, "So the ferals won't attack you. Good thing too: wouldn't have occurred to me."

Tom raised his eyebrows, "That's comforting."  
>Roy smiled, "Don't take it personally. You're not bad for a smoothskin." He checked his rifle as Tom pulled his shotgun, "Remember," he said, "If it looks horrifying and dead don't shoot it."<p>

Tom nodded.

Suddenly a scream erupted from within the hotel, followed by the sound of a gunshot. Tom figured the receptionist, whom never seemed to sleep, had found the first ghouls and gotten her hands on a gun.

"That's our cue," Roy said and he moved forward and kicked the doors in.

They ran forward and Tom immediately began to witness the carnage.

The feral ghouls were chasing down residents, leaping from the balcony above to land on victims in the foyer below, biting down, tasting their blood and feeding, all the while hissing and roaring with delight.

The non-ferals were kicking doors in and spraying rooms with bullets. One had already fallen to a resident fighting back. He was now in a firefight with another, but Roy quickly fired on him, ripping him to pieces.

Tom could see the receptionist wasn't down yet, though blood was flowing freely from a wound at her side. She was firing a small handgun, knocking ferals down with head shots and occasionally getting close enough to a non-feral to break a neck or twist an arm.

Tom felt a moment of doubt as he raised his shot gun and pulled the trigger, taking her down. She fell, several new wounds in her chest, dropping her gun. She was immediately set upon by several ferals.

After about five minutes the Tower's remaining guards had banded together, holding the stairs that led to the other floors. Ferals were falling in piles as they held a fierce fight with Roy's gang.

Tom tried to aid them, but the guards were holding their own fairly well.

"They won't last long," Roy assured him, "The ferals get a bloodlust that can't be halted. They've got not survival instinct: they'll just keep charging until they break through. Either that or I'll do it. It'll take more than a handful of bullets to lay me out."

"I'm going to take the elevator up to the penthouse," Tom said.

Roy shook his head, "The elevator doors will be covered, you'll be walking into a trap."  
>"No choice," Tom said, "I can't give them any time to think of a plan. It's now or never."<p>

Roy grimaced, "It was good knowing you kid. Hope you survive."  
>They shook hands and Tom walked over to the elevator, stepped in and waited patiently as the elevator took him up to the top floor.<p>

Roy was right about them waiting for him. Tom stepped to the side of the elevator pressing himself against the wall, waiting for the doors to open. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all he had.

Luck was on his side though.

When the doors opened the guard waiting immediately opened fire, spraying the back wall with bullets, completely obliterating the nice finish.

After he'd emptied a clip he reloaded and stepped forward to inspect what he now suspected might have been an empty, decoy elevator. He peered down at the floor, noticing something that looked like some kind of mask, poorly sewn together, lying there.

Tom timed it as well as he could, stepping forward and smashing the butt of the shotgun into the guard's face. He was thrown off his feet and fell hard on his back. Tom quickly turned the gun around and fired, closing his eyes as he blew away the guard's face, splattering the floor with blood, bone and grey matter.

Tom cleared the other penthouses, finding them all empty. He decided that they must be on the balcony.

When Tom stepped out the sun was breaching the horizon and Tenpenny was sitting at his table, the sniper propped up against the rail next to him.

Tom pointed the gun at his head, not thinking to check, only fearing the deadly aim from his sniper, "Where's Burke, Allistair?"  
>Tenpenny smiled as Tom felt the cold muzzle settle on the back of his head, "Why, I'm right behind you, Mr. Williams."<p>

Tom froze as the sound of Burke's voice chilled his blood.

"You played the game rather well," Tenpenny said, "Right up until the end. You spent so much time making sure you could get out _after _you killed us that you didn't stop to think if you _could _kill us. Not three months ago you were just a little vault dweller, and now you think you can just kill two of the most powerful men in the capitol wasteland?"

Tom glared back silently.

"Gun on the ground, please."  
>Tom slowly crouched down, laying the shotgun gently on the ground and then standing up, raising his arms in the air.<p>

"That won't be necessary," Burke said.

"Actually it is," he suddenly made a fist with his left hand, the hand next to the open wasteland, and jerked his head to the side.

His trust in his accomplice's timing paid off: before Burke could put the gun back to Tom's head a hole was blown through his left arm just above the elbow. The white arm of his suit exploded with a flash of red and Burke cried out and dropped his gun.  
>Tom spun around and threw his fist into the side of Burke's face, following with a punch to the stomach and then a knee, before throwing an upper cut into his face, throwing him against the wall. His glasses and hat fell away, revealing his incredibly pale blue eyes that seemed to burn with malice and evil.<p>

Tom turned away to deal with Tenpenny before he could reach his sniper, but Burke was far tougher than he thought. With the speed of a striking snake Burke launched forward and swung his uninjured arm around, a small shining blade in his hand. Tom was just fast enough to get his hands up in time to stop the blade from opening up his throat.

Tenpenny had now grabbed his sniper and was fiddling with loading a bullet in.

Burke's strength was intense as he and Tom grunted, the battle now one of brute strength. Tom could feel the blade inching closer and closer to his throat as he tried to force it back, pushing his head back. In a last ditch effort he leaned forward, pushing hard against the blade and letting his head hang over, and then threw his head back hard, the back of his head breaking Burke's nose. Burke stumbled back and his strength failed. Tom twisted from his grip and pushed him back as his sharp shooting accomplice fired again. A wound in Burke's neck exploded outward, spraying blood, from the shot and he stumbled backwards, choking and groaning.

Tom turned back to Tenpenny, but he had the sniper loaded and pointed straight at Tom's head. He was still sitting in his chair and he was at an angle where the railing blocked him from view of Tom's accomplice.

"Everybody treats me like I'm made of glass. I'm not as frail as everybody thinks. You've been nothing but a pain in the arse since you climbed out of that vault, just like your father all those years ago."

Tom's eyes widened.

Tenpenny smiled, "Yes, James Williams got himself quite a reputation, before you were born, that is. But I can see you have no idea what I'm talking about," his smile widened, "And now you never will."

He pulled the trigger.

Tom flinched.

A small click followed by silence.

Tom opened his eyes and realised the gun had jammed.

Tenpenny's eyes widened as he moved to unjam the weapon, but Tom was too fast. He leapt forward, kicking the table up in front of him. Chess pieces and the board flew through the air as Tenpenny cowered. Tom grabbed the barrel of the sniper, pulled it forward and then drove the butt into Tenpenny's face, knocking him and the chair toppling backwards.

Tom threw the gun aside, grabbed Tenpenny and pulled him to his feet, throwing him around, holding him by the back of the shirt. He let go and Tenpenny crashed into and then over the railing.

Tom rushed forward as Tenpenny's frail hands only just managed to grip onto the edge of the railing. He shrieked and begged as his legs dangled in the air, the ground below seeming to gape like an infinite and hungry mouth.

"Please," Tenpenny shrieked, "Don't let me fall I'll do anything!"

Tom grabbed Tenpenny's wrist, "Tell me what you know about my father!"

"He was a scientist!" he shouted, "twenty years ago I had Burke approach him about a project and he impolitely turned him down. He was a do-gooder, a pain the arse for the few entrepreneurs out here."  
>"That's impossible," Tom shouted, "He was born in the vault, just like the rest of us. Nobody enters and nobody leaves, that's how it works. He only escaped a few weeks ago."<p>

"No James Williams was a scientist in DC, a genius! Wasted genius! He disappeared shortly after his wife died."

"His wife was my mother and she died giving birth to me…" Tom's voice broke as he realised what that meant.

"You weren't born in the vault!" Tenpenny yelled, "Now that's everything I know, please help me up!"

Tom looked down at the man, the man who had just destroyed all of his preconceptions about the vault, his father… even himself.

He despised him, "Offer me money!"  
>"Yes!"<br>"Power too, promise me that!"

"All that I have and more: please!"

"Offer me anything I ask for!"

"Anything you want!"

Tom leaned right over the railing, "Tell me where exactly my father worked!"  
>Tenpenny shrieked hysterically, "<em>I don't know! What do you want from me!<em>"

"_I want my father back, you son of a bitch!_" Tom screamed back.

Suddenly there was a shot and Tom felt white hot pain burn across his back. He cried out and turned to see Burke, pale with blood-loss and stained in red, rushing forward, one arm dangling limply and the other gripping his hand gun, his hand slick with blood. His paling skin only emphasised the cold blue of his eyes.

Tom rushed forward to meet him, picking his shot gun up and swinging it, knocking the gun from Burke's hand. He brought the barrel up and pointed the gun at Burke's head and Burke froze, hatred burning in his eyes, "Tell me one thing," he panted, "Before you pull the trigger. Who's your friend out there?"

"Turn and look down at the Robco building," Tom said.

Burke, exhausted, turned and looked down.

"Say hello to Sheriff Lucas Simms."

Simms, whom was lying flat on his stomach on top of the rock pile behind the billboard by the Robco facility that Tom had told him about, watched as Burke turned and immediately knew that Tom was giving him what he wanted. He squeezed the trigger and the bullet flew forward.

Burke's head seemed to blow black like a splash of water, exploding in a wave of red. His body was thrown back and fell to the ground, and the great, deadly and mysterious Mr. Burke was destroyed.

Tom turned back to Tenpenny, still hanging on by the tips of his fingers, "Tell me everything you know!" he shouted over the wind.

"I can't hold on anymore!" Tenpenny cried out, "I'm slipping."  
>"Tell me!" Tom roared stepping forward: he wasn't going to let Tenpenny escape through death so easily. He reached forward to grasp Tenpenny's wrist… but too late.<p>

Tenpenny let out a final shriek as his hands slipped and fell through Tom's grasp. He screamed for the duration of his short, but drawn out, fall, until his midriff met the stone wall. The force of his fall combined with the strength of the wall tore him in half and his upper torso rolled out into the wasteland, blood trickling from the corner of his still gaping mouth, his face still frozen in an expression of deep fear from the last moment of his life.

Tom looked down at this grizzly sight, filled not with regret, but anger: answers he needed had just been snatched from his hands.

As he turned away and started towards the door he saw Burke's blood flecked glasses on the ground in front of him. Without pausing he stepped forward and crushed the glasses under his foot, and they cracked and twisted out of shape, the ruins ground into the stone floor.


	27. Chapter 26

26.

Tom collected the ghoul mask from the elevator and then headed down the stairs, shot gun raised and ready. He met three more guards on the way down, killing them before they had even realised he was there.

Finally he reached the bottom, where the small force was holding Roy off.

Tom let two grenades drop down amongst the eight guards, then covered his ears, standing around the corner, waiting for the explosion. It came, shaking dust loose and splattering the walls with blood. Tom looked around and saw that only three guards were left alive, but only barely. Shrapnel stuck out from the throats of two and the third looked to have been blinded.

The numb feeling that had descended on him since watching Tenpenny fall was perhaps the only thing that allowed him to put the last three guards out of their misery.

Finally, Tenpenny Tower was taken.

The floors were smeared with wreckage, blood and bodies. Roy tasked a handful of his ghouls to round up the ferals and shepherd them back into the tunnels, where they would remain.

Tom was able to take the mask back off and he left it on the reception desk, looking around at the mess the battle had left behind, "Looks like you got everybody," he said to Roy.

"A handful got out," Roy muttered, "Some blonde woman and a couple of others. Wasn't too worried about them though; they didn't exactly look like wasteland hard-cases, not likely to come back and make trouble."

Tom nodded in agreement, "Well, where do we go from here?"

"You're free to leave, as far as I'm concerned," Roy said, "This is ghoul property now, and there's some cleaning up for us to do. You get the two bastards up top okay?"

Tom nodded, "Burke lost his head and Tenpenny… well he's in pieces now."  
>"You throw him off the balcony or something?"<p>

Tom looked around at Roy, "Something like that. He hit the wall."

Roy grinned, "A fitting end, thrown off his own tower. I'm no saint, smoothskin, but the world is a far better place without those two. Which brings us to the spoils of war; I'm happy for you to take all the caps and guns and whatever else of value you find up in those top penthouses so long as I can have the rest of the tower. Seem fair to you?"

"Extremely generous," Tom said, extending his hand and shaking Roy's, "A bit of a bloody business, don't you think?"

"Blood is the only business out here kid," Roy said, "When you think about it."

Tom found several thousand caps in Burke and Tenpenny's rooms, after blowing open their safe's and he found a neat little armoury behind a dresser in Burke's room. After loading it all up into a large pack he found he swung it over his shoulder. He brought a second bag, intending to split the load between Simms and him when they met up. He also retrieved the sniper and Burke's pistol from the balcony.  
>After bidding goodbye to Roy and his group Tom set out and several hours later met up with Simms by the billboard. They exchanged a moment of silence, both grim and celebratory at the same time, before clapping each other on the shoulder and splitting the packs.<br>The next couple of days of travel were relatively uneventful, and most silent. Tom kept pace with Simms and soon they were standing in Megaton once again. They were greeted by two tall strangers with rough features, wearing the same long duster as Simms and wide brimmed hats. They also bore the same revolvers at their hips. These were, apparently, the friends Simms had called to hold Megaton for him.

When Tom noticed the revolvers he exclaimed and dug around in his own personal pack for a moment before producing the revolver he had found on the raiders.

Dalton, the taller of the two, widened his eyes when he saw the weapon, "May I see that, please?"

Tom handed the revolver over and Dalton inspected it a moment, his face becoming grimmer, second by second. Finally he showed the other, Tracy, a slightly shorter, but equally formidable looking woman with short red hair.

"This is Eric's," Dalton muttered.

Tracy gazed at him and then at the gun, checking it over herself. After she was convinced that Dalton was right she sighed, "So he met a Regulator's end."

Dalton looked to Tom, "Though it may seem indistinguishable from others of its kind, this weapon was owned by a comrade of ours. We understand that it is well within your right to possess this, but may we take it back with us; we have been wondering about the fate of our Eric for a great long time, and it would be great closure for the rest of our comrades if his weapon was brought home?"

Tom nodded, "Of course, you're welcome to it."

Dalton and Tracy nodded their heads gratefully.

They departed soon after, embracing Simms and then turning back out into the wasteland, without packs and with only their revolvers, with their heads bowed.

"You guys' all part of something?" Tom asked Simms.

"Before I came to this town I was a part of the Regulators, law bringers of the wasteland; sort of the inverse of the Talon Company. I knew Tracy and Dalton while I was there… Eric too. He was something like a father to many of us. It kills me and it probably kills them too that his gun was in the hands of raiders."  
>"How could you tell it was his?"<p>

"It's part of being a Regulator. Your weapon is yours; it's like your partner. That kind of connection leaves its mark, and is something you can recognise when you know the signs."

Tom accepted this and sensed it was the kind of group where you shouldn't ask too much unless you're a part of it.

He told Simms to take half the caps (roughly three thousand) and, after taking a small portion of the ammunition for his own weapons, told him to put the rest of the weapons and ammo in the Megaton armoury. Afterwards Tom made his way up to his house and dumped his bags, now empty of food and water, before collapsing on his bed and almost instantly falling asleep.

When he woke the next day he knew that he could no longer sit around Megaton and stall. It was time he left for D.C.  
>He set Wadsworth to organising his weapons and filling his bottles with water again before leaving with a pouch full of caps.<p>

He made a round with his pack, purchasing plenty of food and then stopped by Moriarty's Saloon.

When he entered Gob looked up and then smiled, "Heard you've been busy, kid."

Tom shrugged, "No more than usual. I need your help, Gob. Can you tell me _how _exactly to get to Galaxy News Radio?"

Gob frowned, "You think you're ready to go into the city?"  
>"Whether I am or not doesn't matter anymore," Tom said, "I need to get moving. I can't stall anymore."<br>Gob nodded, "Well okay then. There are a couple of things about D.C. that complicate travel. The place is a fucking ruin, for one thing, which means there will be times when there is absolutely no way to use the streets to get where you're doing, and trying to go through the buildings would be suicide: there are things in those dark places that nobody's ever heard of cos nobody's sees them and lives. So when you get stuck like that you've got to go down and use the subway tunnels. Show me your map."

Tom pulled the map up on his Pip-Boy and Gob started making marks as he spoke, "When you get to the edge of the city, go into here, Farragut Station. When I used to travel to and from D.C. these tunnels were the way to go, and you're lucky cos you can't get lost: all the dead ends lead you straight through. When you finally get out, it'll be here at Tenley Station on Chevy Chase. Then it's not a very long walk from there to the GNR building."

When they finished Tom inspected the marks made, "How long would this trip take, do you think?"

"No more than two days," Gob said.

"Okay good, because I'm leaving now. Thanks Gob, I'll see you."

"Okay, see you later kid. If you're ever in Underworld, say hi to Carol for me."

Tom nodded, "If I'm in Underworld and I find a person named Carol in there I will do just that."

"Appreciated kid."

Tom left the saloon and headed back down to his house. After packing his food, water, ammunition and a pouch of caps into the bag he slid the shotgun, barrel first, in and zipped the bag up as best he could. He swung it onto his shoulders, then tucking his pistol into his belt and strapping the rifle across his back.

He dropped by Simms, shook his hand and said goodbye.

"Good luck kid. That house is always yours if you ever swing back by."  
>"Thanks, Simms."<p>

"Go find your Dad."

Tom smiled and said a last goodbye. He walked out through the front doors of Megaton and turned right. The first few hours of travel was mostly climbing rocky slopes and occasionally putting a bullet in a bloatfly or a wild dog, though these were few and far between. He often wondered why this was, considering his journey to Arefu had been so perilous, nearly killing him on several occasions.

He decided he was going to start using the term, 'the luck of the wasteland' to explain this.

After reaching the peak of a particularly steep hill Tom stopped to rest a moment, having a small meal and drinking a little water. The sun wasn't as harsh today.

He had so far seen no scenery other than boulders and spire-like trees, and the occasional power line.

He travelled down the slope of the hill and then began climbing the next. When he reached the top of this one, higher than the other, he finally caught a glimpse of the world he was daring to approach.

The city rose up from the horizon in broken but incredibly tall, grey blocks. The occasional explosion could be heard echoing out from it. He could also see the river that divided the rest of the wasteland from D.C.

The buildings, though far away, seemed to glare at Tom, as though daring him to come closer, daring him to stride in amongst them and waiting to swallow him up, never to release him. Nothing but a sense of foreboding came from the city.

Tom started down the slope, passing more stone, shrubs and trees. As he went he came upon a tall water tower, its supporting metal beams groaning as the wind pushed against their load.

A chain link fence surrounded the tower, though the gate had been knocked flat. Curious, Tom approached the tank and looked closely at the valve that controlled the release of the water. He was perturbed by the small, florescent, glowing green mushrooms growing out from the ground where small drops of water occasionally fell from the valve. He felt it was the sort of thing that Moira Brown might get excited about.

Tom moved past the tower and eventually reached the bottom of the slope. In front of him was a large building, the back of which he was facing. Dumpsters were pushed up against it and ventilation shafts ran up its back.

Tom felt uncomfortable near the building and quickly moved away as the sun began to set. A bridge to the left spanned the river and Tom made his way towards it, passing a car wreck as he went. After crossing the bridge he looked up at the city, which seemed even hungrier than ever, its monumental buildings towering over him, swallowing up the road that led into its maw.

Tom did not want to enter that place in the failing light. He looked under the bridge and found a small improvised shelter up against the wall. It was long abandoned, but out of the way and so Tom settled down amongst the metal sheet walls, having a little to drink and eat before finally lying down to sleep, his pistol clutched in his hand.

As sheltered as he was he couldn't shake the feeling of dread in his stomach.  
>Tomorrow he would enter D.C.<p> 


	28. Chapter 27

27.

The next day Tom rose and began to follow the shore line. A chilly mist rose off of the river and sunk into his bones, his fingers aching and his teeth chattering as he moved along. The city rising up from the slope to his left the grey river to his right Tom passed underneath the crumbling overpass as it wound up into the city.

After a half an hour of walking Tom finally stepped onto pavement as the natural bank became a man-made sidewalk that ran along the length of the river. The first feature on the pavement was the entrance to the train tunnels. He descended the steps, the broken roof above and a tier on the right, blocking most of the view of the city.

A chain link gate stood at the entrance, but Tom pushed it easily open and entered the Farragut terminal.

The room was relatively well lit, possibly by some still struggling generator and he turned left as the room curved, stepping through the turnstiles and then the maintenance rooms. After a moment of searching he found the door to the sublevels and descended the stairs, the walls lined with pipes and wires. The darkness began to intensify to the point where Tom had to switch the light on his Pip-Boy on, illuminating the metal walls. After a few more minutes of following the stairs Tom found himself on the floor of a generator room, with a metal staircase leading to a platform that stood on stilts above the rusted, ancient generators. Tom climbed the stairs and followed the platform right. The way was blocked by another chain link gate, this one padlocked.

Tom fiddled with the lock a moment, trying to look for any weaknesses, when suddenly a horrible hissing creature ran smack into the gate, causing an almighty racket. Tom threw himself back, panicking a moment, his shaking light casting an occasional shine on the faces of the ghouls that had seen his light, heard him tinkering with the lock and possibly even smelt him from the other side and rushed forward, eager to feast.

As far as he could tell there were five of them reaching through the gates, their skeletal claws brandishing in the air, desperate for his skin and flesh.

Tom panicked and ran backwards, finding a door behind him and stepping through, locking the door behind him.

He quickly ran his torch over the room, gun raised, searching the room for any danger, but it seemed to be clear.

It was some sort of office, with filing cabinets, a fold out bed attached to the wall, a work bench, some shelves and a desk on the right, with a type writer sitting on top. A door-less fridge was on the far wall.

To the left were more filing cabinets, shelves and another, much more impressive desk, with a still humming computer terminal on top, a nice cushioned chair and a safe behind.

The floor and tabletops were all covered in mouldy papers and junk, but the desk on the right had several bullets that would fit Tom's pistol.

He walked over and sat at the desk and wiped a thick film of dust off of the computer's screen. It wasn't password protected and so he entered into the files, finding a handful of commands, including 'Begin Gas Flow Test' and 'Unlock Security Safe'.

Tom selected the latter and he heard a click behind him. He crouched down next to the safe and opened the door. Inside were several papers, forty-two bottle caps, some energy cells that Tom recognised from the vault (three small cylindrical batteries tightly bound together in a metal case) and a strange looking gun on top of a booklet called 'DCTA Laser Firearms Protocol'. According to the booklet, the gun Tom was holding was an AEP7 Laser Pistol. It had a rectangular barrel and a square frame that started at the base of the handle and connected again towards the front of the barrel, on the bottom. It looked strange to Tom, including the 'Caution' label. As he read through the booklet, noting that it took energy cells, he came across a small note that warned that the weapon was capable of igniting gas.

Tom remembered the option on the computer and quickly jumped back on, finding and selecting the option: 'Begin Gas Flow Test'.

He wasn't sure it would work, but he felt it was easier than trying to shoot five moving ghouls in a room that he now knew had had gas filled objects in it. He loaded the laser pistol and stepped back out onto the platform.

He approached the gate and this time only flinched when the ghouls hit, their arms stretching out for him. He waited a moment, sniffing the air before he began to see the ripple in the air. He hurriedly stepped back to the door, took aim and fired.

A beam of red light erupted from the weapon and a strange zapping sound followed. The beam passed through the gate and was immediately engulfed by flame. The ghouls shrieked as the generators on both sides of the platform behind the fence exploded, sending shrapnel all across the room. The fence itself crumpled and fell to the ground below the platform, but it was no longer necessary: the ghouls were on the floor, burning up.

Tom crossed over the platform, passing the burning generators as electricity still sparked from them. He entered the door on the other side and found a set of stairs. He climbed them, exited through another door and found himself inside the train tunnels. The right was blocked with debris, but to the left was an alcove in the wall that crossed over to another set of rails. Tom approached the section and found an arrow pointing down over to the next line, with the words scrawled in white, 'To GNR outpost'. Above the words and arrow was the symbol of a sword pointed up with winds spreading from the hilt, a circle encompassing the blade. Inside the circle, behind the blade, were splotches that looked like cogs.

Puzzled by the symbol, but nonetheless warmed by the indication that he was getting closer to Galaxy News Radio Tom followed the directions. He found himself on the Red Line, with the left blocked and the tunnel on the right, curving to the left. Tom followed the tracks, stepping around rubble and peering through the dust.

As he turned the corner he saw the vast space of a station uphill and ahead of him. Silhouetted against the light of the station was the hulking mass of what Tom could only assume was another of the Super Mutants he had encountered at the out-door cinema. Tom froze, bringing up the laser pistol and preparing to fire. As he watched the creature stumbled around, growling and grunting at something. It was a moment before he realised that the mutant was stomping on radroaches.

He was almost amused by this until he saw the creature's eyes following something and he realised that a radroach had ventured down the line, towards him.

The mutant sprang after it and brought the plank of wood in its hand down hard on the bug, squashing it flat. The creature was now almost three meters away.

Tom knew he would never get another chance as clean as this and lifted the laser pistol.

He pulled the trigger and right at the moment when he thought a beam of burning light would shoot forth and strike his foe turned sour when the weapon fizzled and suddenly became very hot.

The mutant's head snapped around and its malicious eyes fixed on Tom as he dropped the noisy, malfunctioning gun. It let out a war cry as it leapt forward and swung the board hard.

"_Shit_," Tom exclaimed as he threw himself forward, ducking under the board and pulling his own pistol. He jarred his shin on the rail but ignored the pain as he lifted the gun and fired some good ol' reliable bullets at the back of the monster. Two hit its shoulders and one clipped its ear before the mutant turned, shouting furiously and raising the board high above its head.

Desperately Tom fired off more bullets as fast as he could, finally catching the mutant three times in the head in a row. Blood poured forth from its wounds and the creature wobbled on its feet a moment. Tom threw himself aside as the creature toppled forward, making an almighty thump and throwing up more dust.

After a moment of calming down Tom finally hauled himself to his feet and stepped into the station. As far as he could tell this particular mutant had been on its own. He headed up the still escalators and then turned left, following the ramp up into the terminal for Tenley Town, passing several dirty and presumably empty vending machines as he moved towards the chain link fence.

It had been several hours since he had stepped down into Farragut and when he stepped back out into the city the sun was well and truly in the sky, casting a yellow light on the buildings and ruins, giving the impression of aged photography.

Stepping out into the middle of the city Tom felt immediately dwarfed by the great buildings surrounding him, the feeling of a thousand eyes watching him, unseen, hidden in the shadows.

Standing above the entrance to Tenley Town station was a metal logo of a globe with a rocket flying around it, the whole thing held up on four stilts.

Tom checked his map and headed left, stepping through more rubble than he possibly could have imagined. He crossed through an intersection and down a dirt slope that seemed to run under several levels of concrete, perhaps the ruined skeleton of an office building, its walls long since stripped away.

The slope led into a trench with the platforms above with buildings rising all above.

Tom's rifle was in his hands as he cautiously walked through, his heart thumping in his chest.

Suddenly a harsh voice run through the air, "_Hello little ma-_" but was cut short by a scream as Tom spun around and fired a bullet through the side of the face that belonged to the owner of the voice. The mutant jerked back, howling with rage and Tom quickly fired another round into its head. The creature had been standing on the edge of the trench above him along with two others, whom had already raised their guns.

Tom threw himself aside and leapt over a slab of concrete on the other side of the trench.

Bullets slammed into the improvised barricade as Tom tried to think of a plan.

Suddenly he heard human voices and looked up to see red beams of light fly from his side of the trench towards his attackers. He stood up, rifle held up and watched as several people leapt into the trench and fired up at the mutants; there seemed to be at least six of them, all clad from head to toe in the same thick, metal armour. The legs and arms were incredibly thick like the trunks of trees, and the shoulder pads were curved with loops on top for what Tom could only guess was hooks to catch onto in order to hold up the armour when it was being worn: it looked incredibly heavy.

Most of them wore helmets with ventilators at the mouth and tubes sticking out of the cheeks and leading into tanks on the back. The visors were small and menacing and above the left eye was a light.

One person who wasn't wearing a helmet was a woman with short blonde hair, tied back and bright green eyes. Despite her very feminine, maybe even beautiful face, in different circumstances, she held a very commanding presence as she fired what was clearly a rifle version of the laser pistol Tom found in the tunnels up at the mutants. The two soon fell, covered in burns, after which the woman turned on Tom, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out from behind the concrete slab, "Any injuries?" she asked; almost seemed to bark.

Tom shook his head, "Uh, know I'm fine."

"Good. Now I don't know who you are but you don't belong here. The super mutants have over run our brothers at the galaxy news radio building and we're headed there to back them up. You can tag along if you want. But keep your head down and try not to do anything… stupid."

Tom blinked, trying to process the information, "Wait… who are you people?" he asked, gazing around at the amour clad group in wonder.

"Sentinel Lyons of the Lyon's Pride with the Brotherhood of Steel."  
>Tom's eyes widened as he realised that he'd just stumbled across the 'most organised good guys' as Gob had put it.<p>

"GNR is out port in the storm but they're getting hit pretty hard right now, so if there are no more questions it's time we moved out," Lyons commanded, turning and heading up out of the ditch. Tom followed her, surrounded by other members of the Lyon's Pride.

They stopped at the corner of a building where a man crouched, his weapon raised, and another lay on a mattress, his eyes closed and a bloody bandage wrapped around his neck.

"What's the situation, Colvin?" Lyons asked the man at the corner.

Before answering the man raised his weapon and fired a bolt of red light from his own laser weapon. He stood up and they came back around the corner, "All clear, Sentinel; five Super Mutants released of their torment, the others are keeping their heads down."

"Good," Lyons said and turned to another man, whom wasn't wearing a helmet, but what seemed to be a protective hood that would keep hair off of the helmet and was checking the pulse of the man on the mattress, "Vargas, what about Jennings?"

Vargas looked up and shook his head, "Negative."

Tom watched as Vargas reached around Jennings' neck and pulled away his dog tags, tucking them away in his suit.

He turned to see Colvin eyeing him, before turning to Lyons and saying, "New recruit?"

Lyons shook her head, "Tourist: picked him up on 42nd after he ran into some uglies."

Colvin nodded and turned back to Tom and said, with a voice that sounded genuine, "Welcome!"

Tom tried a smile and nodded.

Lyons turned to the rest of the 'Pride' and said, "Alright listen up; it's the usual drill. Reddin, you do exactly as Vargas says and keep your mouth shut."

A soldier wearing a helmet spoke with a female voice, "Yes ma'am," and stepped closer to Vargas.

"Let's move out! To arms, brothers, to arms!"

Tom joined the Brotherhood soldiers as they rounded the corner and raised their weapons to the building in front, firing at the Super Mutants that stood at the windows.

Tom raised his own rifle and took the knees out of one at the top of the building, watching as the creature fell screaming down to the ground.

A handful of the creatures rushed out of the building's front door, mostly brandishing hunting rifles like Tom's, and giving our war cries.

Tom and the Pride fired, mowing the creatures down as they charged mindlessly forward.

Finally it seemed that the outer wall was safe and they continued forward, when suddenly another group of the creatures appeared at the windows, firing down.

The brotherhood reacted faster than Tom, lifting their weapons straight away and knocking the creatures back, but not before they filled one of the dormant cars by the building with bullets and igniting a fire.

The one named Reddin spotted it first, "Get back! Car fire!"

The soldiers all dived away and Tom did the same, moments before the car suddenly exploded, throwing burning shrapnel across the street and the ground shook. Tom's Geiger counter ticked as the radioactively powered car's engine went up in flame.

Tom heard a voice cry out, "I'm hit, I'm hit!" but there was no time to see who it was. Lyons was already commanding someone to help the injured member and commanding the rest of them to enter the building.

A sign above the door designated the building, 'Early Dawn Elementary School'. To call it a building would seem insincere; it was little more than the outer shell, with the roof removed and most of the upper floors collapsed. Some of the second storey levels were bridged by planks of wood, which the mutants stood on and fired down from as the Lyon's Pride moved through the building, firing up at them and taking no more hits. Tom felt incredible inadequate, watching them professionally take down the beasts as they moved through the school before finally clearing it completely and stepping out into what a sign announced was the GNR plaza. The same logo that had stood above the Tenley Town station entrance stood in the middle of the square, rising out of a dry fountain, with a tall building ahead with a picture of a radio tower running along the height of it, with the letters GNR at the top.

So close, and yet the square was filled with four mutants even larger than Tom had ever seen before.

Their armour was thicker and spiked and they wore improvised metal helmets with sharp crests on top, which framed their angry faces.

Tom slipped a new magazine into his rifle and opened fire, putting five bullets into the back of one of them before he could even begin to hear Lyons shouting, "Civilian, what the hell are you doing! Fall back!"

The brutish thing turned around and Tom immediately regretted firing at the creature. It raised its automatic rifle and out of pure fear Tom pulled the trigger on his rifle.

Blood exploded from the creature's throat and it immediately dropped its gun and stepped back, choking on its blood and trying to scream in fury.

Tom ducked around it and smacked the butt of his gun into the back of its knee as hard as he could. The creature fell to its knee and Tom put a bullet, point blank, into its skull.

The other three were fighting more soldiers, one of the brotherhood men sprawled on his back on the edge of the fountain, a large strange looking gun lying near his hand.

One of the mutants was scaling the stairs up to the GNR building, pulling men from their posts and tossing them behind it.

Tom sprinted up the stairs and around one of the pillars. The creature punched one of the brotherhood soldiers hard enough to throw them into the wall behind him where he became embedded.

Totally consumed by an adrenaline rush Tom ran forward and smacked the butt of his gun into the creature's face, fast enough to not gain its notice before hand. As it cried out in surprise and a little in pain Tom brought the barrel around and fired three rounds into the creatures face, mostly killing it. As it fell back another of them fired at Tom and caught him in the shoulder. He cried out as the bullet smashed through his flesh, immediately causing the wound gush blood. He dropped his rifle and fell against a pillar, gritting his teeth and ripping some cloth off of the sleeve of his shirt, preparing to make a tourniquet.

A brotherhood man with no helmet ran over, crouched down to avoid fire, and batted his hands away, "Don't bother with a tourniquet for something that small! Hold still, I'm a medic!"

Gunfire and grenade explosions continued to rend the air as the medic ripped the shirt open around Tom's wound. He checked behind Tom's shoulder and then said, "The bullet's still in there," as he pulled a pair of tweezers from a bag at his side, "this is going to sting like you wouldn't believe, but try not to squirm."  
>Suddenly the tweezers were buried roughly in Tom's bullet wound and he cried out and tried to force himself to remain still as the medic dug around in his shoulder, hitting nerves and tendons as he prodded around for the bullet. Finally, after an excruciating five seconds of feeling solid steel wiggle around in his flesh, the medic pulled the bullet out and Tom sighed as the intense pain subsided down to a more manageable level.<p>

"Don't relax yet," the medic said as he pulled something else out of the bag. It had a handle and a curved dome end at first, and was white, but then the medic pressed a button and the dome suddenly split into several arms which stretched out, each with a needle at the end.

"This is also going to hurt, but not as much," he said as he buried the needles into Tom's flesh around the wound, "It should be releasing an anesthetic through those needles now," and indeed Tom could feel the pain subsiding until it redoubled after the medic pressed another button and the needles buried in his skin contracted, bringing the edges of his wound together, "Okay," the medic said, "now you _really _have to stay still, because this one's important."

Tom kept himself still, waiting for whatever unknown pain was coming next. As he watched the medic pressed a third button and a thin red beam of burning hot light shot onto Tom's wound and cauterised it, sealing it shut.

It took only a split second, but that split second was the worst pain of the whole ordeal, having his skin melted together by laser.

Finally the medic put the contraption away and Tom moved his arm around gingerly, looking in wonder at the strength of the cauterisation, "What _is_ that thing?" he asked.

"It's called a Stimpak," the medic said, "Revolutionised battlefield medicine. Bullet wounds fixed within a matter of minutes, soldiers back on the field in no time. Only thing you have to keep reloading it with is the anesthetic. Now get back out there!" the medic patted him on the shoulder as Tom picked up his rifle and stepped back out.

One mutant was still standing and had the brotherhood pinned down at the school, but its attention was on them with its back to him.

He calmly swung his rifle onto his back and shrugged his pack into his hands. After a moment of rummaging he produced what he'd been looking for: a grenade. He pulled the pin and gently tossed it at the mutant's feet. It landed and rolled a moment before coming to a gentle stop right beneath the creature.

The mutant let out a harsh laugh of joy as it fired at its human enemies, and was still laughing merrily when the grenade exploded beneath it, taking out its legs and killing it instantly.

A silence followed as the dust cleared, but soon the Brotherhood were out in the plaza, gazing down at the remains of the battle.

As Vargas passed Tom he clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Not bad, tourist."

Sentinel Lyons marched up to Tom, scowling, "That was incredible reckless, and were you under my command I would have you seriously punished… but you're not. You have my gratitude and this warning: stunts like that don't always work out."

The soldiers began to converge at the steps of the GNR building. Tom overheard Reddin speaking to Vargas, "So how'd I do Vargas: pass my little trial run? C'mon, Lyon's Pride needs me and you know it."  
>"Yeah, yeah, we'll see."<br>"Aw, c'mon! We just kicked their asses!"  
>"We need to sweep the area; you think those were the only uglies in D.C.? You take the East and I'll take the West."<p>

"Okay, okay."

"Once we're inside, then we can celebrate."  
>"Now you're talking!"<p>

Tom watched as Reddin headed towards the left, over to where a large bus sat across the road, blocking any further obvious passage, while Vargas headed in the opposite direction.

There was a moment of casual milling about as the Lyon's Pride went about their business, properly securing the perimeter.

Suddenly the ground shook and there was a loud crash over by Reddin, followed by an incredible roar.

"Holy shit, what the hell was that?" Reddin cried.

"Reddin," Vargas shouted, "Get out of there."

Something moved behind the bus, something big enough to show over the top of it.

Reddin couldn't turn fast enough as the bus was suddenly obliterated in fire and shrapnel. She was thrown aside and landed in a heap as a gigantic mutant, larger than any living thing Tom had ever seen. He could barely hear somebody shout, "Behemoth!" before the Brotherhood opened fire on the huge scowling creature.

It ran forward, brandishing a fire hydrant mounted on water pipe. It spotted Tom and he threw himself to the ground as it swung, narrowly missing him. The ground shook with every step it took as it turned its attention to the GNR building, with the Brotherhood fighters firing up at its face. Mounted on its back was a huge cage and on its arm was a large piece of metal possible some kind of wrist bound shield.

"Kid!"

Tom looked around to see Lyons wildly trying to get his attention from the doors of GNR, while also trying to avoid getting smashed by the fire hydrant. She was brandishing at something on the ground near him. Tom looked around and saw the strange looking weapon he'd seen earlier.

It was long, and seemed to have a small bomb loaded into it, as though waiting to be catapulted from the long tray of the gun. Tom picked up the incredibly heavy weapon and pointed it at the behemoth.

"No! No, too close!"

Tom looked up and saw Lyons waving her arms and shaking her head, "Top of the school!" she shouted and pointed behind Tom. The behemoth saw this and turned, seeing Tom. It let out an almighty roar and Tom stumbled back, wide eyed and almost literally wetting himself with fear as the gigantic creature advanced on him, raising its fire hydrant high up in the air and growling deep in its chest.

Suddenly a burst of bullets pounded into the creature's face and it turned its head to the right, roaring at the source of the bullets. Tom did the same, seeking to see what exactly had just saved his life.

Reddin was barely standing, her helmet off and her face smeared with blood, as she fired the assault rifle at the creature, "Come on!" she screamed, "Come over here you ugly son of a bitch!"

The behemoth roared and took off after her. Tom took the moment to get to his feet and run for the school.

Both Vargas and Lyons sprinted down from GNR and bolted towards the behemoth. Vargas made a beeline for Reddin while Lyons kept some distance and raised her weapon.

The behemoth raised its fire hydrant and roared as Reddin dropped her rifle and glared defiantly up at the creature, the sun behind its head and blaring into her eyes.

The hydrant came down and Vargas crashed into Reddin, only just knocking them both out of the way as the weapon came down hard, making a sizeable dent in the ground. Power armour or no power armour: that was a killing hit.

Lyons opened fire to draw the creature's attention, shooting laser beams into its face, sending it into another rage. As it advanced she stepped back.

By now Tom had made it to the top of the wall and was taking aim with the strange weapon, with the label 'Fat Man' on the side. He was lining up the sights when Lyons shouted past the behemoth's shoulder, "NOW!"

The behemoth turned its head and saw Tom standing on the wall.

Tom froze with panic as the creature ripped up a huge boulder and tossed it at him like it were a tennis ball before turning its attention back to Lyons, whom had ducked under a piece of falling building and was far out of its grasp.

The boulder tumbled into the air and smacked into the wall just below Tom, and it began to crumble beneath him. He fell back as the wall collapsed from under him and he pulled the trigger of the Fat Man. The bomb was catapulted from the tray and Tom watched in slow motion, lying flat on a slab of concrete as he fell down upon the crumbling wall, as the small weapon sailed through the air. The world became silence as Tom watched what he now realised was a small nuclear bomb fly towards its target.

Finally after what felt like an eternity of silence the bomb hit home on the creatures back and exploded in a huge ball of radioactive flame. The mutant behemoth let out a roar of pain and stumbled forward, its back now a huge smoldering gash, before it finally collapsed on its front, shaking the entire block.

Tom only just survived the collapse of the wall as the slab he fell down with remained intact. Nonetheless he landed hard and the wind was knocked out of him. He scrambled off of the pile, having dropped the Fat Man in the fall and rushed over to where Lyons had been hiding.

Some debris had fallen down on her but she was okay and Tom grabbed her arm and helped her out of the small space, covered in dust, "Not a moment too soon," she muttered.

Vargas was cradling Reddin's bloodied head when they approached. Her eyes were closed and her expression seemed peaceful.

Lyons put a hand on Vargas' shoulder, "I'm sorry Vargas; I know she meant something to you."  
>Vargas shook his head, "I told her to come here… it should've been me."<br>"It wasn't your fault," Lyons said, shaking him gently, "She died a member of the pride today; she died a paladin's death. When we get back to the Citadel I'll talk to the scribes: Paladin Reddin passed her test."

Vargas sighed and lay Reddin's head gently down and stood. He and Lyons stepped away, leaving Tom standing and looking down at her; she had saved his life. On the door of death she had decided not to lie down and accept it but fight as hard as she could to her very last breath.

For a moment Tom wondered if he were capable of such an act of selflessness.

Suddenly a heavy hand was on Tom's shoulder. He turned to look into Sentinel Lyons' eyes, "What's your name kid?"

"Tom," he said grimly, "Tom Williams."

Lyons held out her hand, "Sarah."

Tom shook it and they walked back to the GNR building.

"What brings you to D.C. Tom?" Lyons asked as they walked.

"My father; I'm told he came this way, looking for the Galaxy News Radio building. So far that's all I know."

"Following in his footsteps?"

Tom smiled a little, "In a way, yeah I suppose."

"I can relate. If your father came here, he was probably looking for Three Dog."

Tom remembered the name, "I thought he was just a radio guy?"  
>"He's <em>the <em>radio guy. Talk to him and I guarantee he can help you. He's upstairs."

Tom nodded and thanked Lyons. She nodded back in welcome.

Tom headed inside, finding the building to be packed with Brotherhood of Steel soldiers. He headed up a flight of stairs and then through a door in the center of the far wall. In the next room on the right was a flight of stairs. He went to ascend them and looked up and stopped, seeing the man standing at the top of them.

He wore a bandanna on his head, keeping his hair out of his face which was a dark brown. He wore a pair of reading glasses and black vest over a white shirt. A moustache and goatee trailing down from his chin gave the impression of wisdom.

The man's lips twitched into a smile as he looked down at Tom and said, "Name's Three Dog, friend."


	29. Chapter 28

28.

"The look on your face says it all," the man said, "You're wondering who the heck this guy is and why you should care. Well come on up and prepare to be enlightened." He extended a hand and beckoned Tom forward.

Tom made his way up the stairs and followed 'Three Dog' into an office. They sat opposite each other, a paper covered desk between them.

"Like I said, I'm Three Dog: jockey of discs and teller of truths; lord and master over the greatest radio station to grace the wastes: Galaxy News Radio. And who, may I ask, are you; seems like you came a long way, pilgrim, to meet yours truly."

Tom sighed heavily before answering, "I'm Tom Williams. I came from Vault 101, near Springvale; I'm following my father, trying to find him."

A smile slowly spread over Three Dog's face, "Williams? Your daddy's name wasn't James, by any chance, was it?"

Tom leaned forward, his eyes wide, "Yes that's him! Have you seen him! Did he come here?"

"Hold your horses, kid. Yeah you're daddy came through here: heard ole Three Dog on the radio and figured I knew what was what out here in the Capitol Wasteland: and he was right. So I filled the old man in and he split. Looks like I've got my own way of contributing to the Good Fight and he's got his."

Tom shook his head, "The 'Good Fight'?"

"Let me put it this way, kid: Imagine a picture, okay, a picture of the Capitol Wasteland; all that brick and rock: a whole lot of nothing, right? There are people out there trying to just barely make it by from day to day, fighting to stay alive and make something of what they've got. But then you've got all kinds of shit: slavers, Super Mutants, raiders… they all want a slice of pie too and aim to take it by force."

"So you use GNR to broadcast hope to people? That's your way of fighting the 'Good Fight'?"

Three Dog's smile lit up his face, "Well holy shit. Aren't you a chip off the old block; as smart as your dad. Well since you know all about the cause I guess I don't have to explain the effect."

"Please," Tom begged, "If you know anything about where my father is, please just tell me."

Three Dog held up a hand to stop him, "You want to find your Dad… you crawled out of that vault, just like him, and you fought your way over here, just like him. Only thing is he knew what was out here when he started: you didn't, which makes your feat all the more remarkable and, dare I say it, inspiring."

Tom said nothing in response, just waited for Three Dog to say something helpful.

"You're dad's a real stand-up guy and we had a great conversation and during this conversation he just happened to divulge to me his next destination. But," he held up a hand again as Tom leaned forward excitedly, about to speak. Tom sank back in his chair, calming himself down, "But, if you want to know more you're going to have to make your own contribution to the Good Fight."

Tom felt his heart sink. "You want to trade the information? You're supposed to be the good guys?"

"Nothing comes for free out here kid. You want to know where he went, then just say yes and we'll get you along your way."

After a long moment Tom felt himself give in and he said, "What's the job?"

"This ain't a job, kid: it's a public service. Galaxy News Radio is my baby: I love it, I feed it, I keep it changed, but right now nobody outside of D.C. can hear her cry. You might be aware that our signal is a little weak outside the city."  
>Tom nodded.<p>

"Well there's a reason for that, and it ain't human error… not technically anyway. You see some brainless Super Mutant thought it would be funny to shoot at the shiny round thing on the side of the Washington Monument. And, as I'm sure you've guessed, that shiny round thing was our broadcast relay and now it's Swiss cheese. Without it our broadcast range is extremely limited and of course the factory that made the dishes is long gone, absolutely leveled: in other words there is no way we'll ever scavenge that part again. Normally that would mean game over, but one of the Brotherhood guys that passed through here mentioned seeing a disc in one of D.C.'s old museums. It's the dish of the old Virgo II Lunar Lander in the museum of technology. I want you to get it and take it to the Washington Monument to replace the bad one. I wouldn't lie to you; this isn't going to be easy. That whole area is crawling with mutants, but there's something in your eye, something that just seems to scream, 'I'm the one who can get shit done!' It's a look your dad had as well.  
>"So what do you say, kid; ready to fight the Good Fight?"<p>

Tom looked up, "As long as you can mark where the museum is on my map, I'm in."

Three Dog let out a laugh of relief, "Ha, I sure know how to pick 'em. You're going to be the best thing to happen to Galaxy News in a long time. You got a map on that gizmo on your wrist?"

Tom nodded, brought the map up on his Pip-Boy and held it out for Three Dog. He adjusted his glasses and leaned in, marking places down on the map, "The quickest and easiest way there is if you leave through our back door and head down to the Dupont tunnels. You'll find some spray painted signs for the Brotherhood pointing the way; follow them and eventually you'll get to the museum station. I don't know what kind of stuff is crawling around down there, but stay frosty. Once you get out of the tunnels the museum should be on your right. From there it's all you kid. Here, I'll show you the back door."

After following Three Dog through the building and down a long corridor they stopped at a door. Tom could hear wind whistling past it.

"This door is unguarded," Three Dog said, "But also very hard to reach, but just as a precaution it only opens from the inside; if you try to open it from the outside it'll be locked tight. So once you step out there, there's no stepping back in this way, unless you break the door down, which I'd really prefer you didn't do. You ready?"

Tom nodded, "Let's get this show on the road."  
>Three Dog laughed and opened the door. Tom stepped out onto a ledge that was all that was left of that level of the building. As Tom looked around he saw that this entire side of the building had collapsed in a heap of rubble, only some small spaces of floor still standing on top of a piece of wall or pillar.<p>

Three Dog pointed down to what looked like some kind of car park, littered with rusting vehicles, "Down there is the door that you need to go in through. Good luck kid," he called over the howling wind. Tom nodded and Three Dog closed the door behind him, cutting him off from any further words or help.

The view was spectacular, the city stretching out before him, with the wind in his ears and the occasional movement in the distance. He could even see the spire-like monument rising into the sky in the distance.

He inched his way to the right along the last vestige of floor, before making it to a larger outcrop from which he lowered himself down to a pile of jagged concrete chunks.

Eventually he cleared the building and was making his way down into the car park.

His rifle ready Tom walked slowly amongst the wrecks, keeping his ears and eyes open for the first sign of an attack, but none came.  
>The space was surrounded by three tiers on top of which sat the streets and buildings of the city.<p>

Tom made his way over to the door, which faced the GNR building, and pushed it open. It was dark within and Tom switched his torch on before entering.

He spent at least half an hour (though it felt like four times that) moving through the access tunnels until he finally found himself at the maintenance room of Dupont Station. As he moved to open the door he heard heavy footsteps outside and froze. After a moment the voice of Super Mutant broke the silence, "I'm hungry! I need something to eat. Meat would be good; a brahmin head, roasted just a bit… with some-"  
>For a moment Tom thought the creature might have been talking to him until a similar voice behind the door cut it off, "Ha! You talk a lot… sounds funny when you talk! Like a stupid human!" the creature roared with laughter at its own wit.<p>

"Bah, I'm going back to doing… what I was doing," the other replied.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation.

After a moment Tom checked his rifle and summoned up the courage to do what had to be done. Finally he kicked the door open and moved as fast as he could, scanning the lobby of the station and spotting the first mutant to the right, standing near an exit. He lifted the rifle and fired off three rounds as fast as he could. One missed, but the other two found their homes in the creature's neck and brain, putting it down immediately.

Tom spun around too late as the second mutant lunged forward, swinging a heavy looking plank of wood with a nail through it. No time to shoot Tom ducked and rolled out of the way as the creature swung, knocking the door off of its hinges and clattering across the room. Tom got to his feet in time to be knocked clean off of them again by the mutant, hit by the board. He was lucky in that the side that hit him was not the one with the nail poking through. He flew through the air, experiencing both pressure and weightlessness at the same time, a combination of the strike and his flight, before crashing into the wall and sliding to the floor. The mutant was lifting the plank again, this time with the nail aimed for his face.

Tom stood and lifted his rifle with both hand, blocking the blow, but not by much. As the wood of the plank struck the metal of the rifle he heard something crack and he prayed that it wasn't his weapon. His arms gave way almost completely and the rusty point of the nail was inches away from his eye as his arms shook with the strain of holding the weapon off.

Tom looked into the greedy, simple little eyes of the creature and sensed the pure, stupid malice behind them.

He let the tension in his legs go and felt his feet slide out from under him. The plank drove him down and he slipped down between the mutant's legs, lifting the rifle and firing right up between them, immediately rolling to the side as the creature leapt and hopped, howling in pain. He rolled onto his back, stopped and took aim at the creature's screaming face, blasting teeth into the back of its mouth with the first bullet and taking an eye with the second.

The creature leered at him stupidly a moment, swaying on its feet. Miraculously it took a sluggish step forward.

Tom got to his feet and aimed carefully, lining up best as he could and fired a final bullet in between the creature's sockets. Its head rocked back on its shoulder and it finally tumbled backwards, dead.

Tom checked his rifle over and found virtually no damage, save a few scratches. The first creature he'd shot had in fact had the same weapon but in far worse condition. He was able to scavenge a handful of rounds from it before turning and heading into the train tunnels.

As usual the tracks were covered in debris and trash and the air was cold and damp.

He followed a Brotherhood marker down the tunnel until he came across a spot where a makeshift wall had been set up. Tom peered through a crack in the wall to see a sleeping raider lying on a mattress.

Tom inched his way around the tin wall and peered down at the man lying on the bed: he was young, not much older than Tom, his face covered in rough facial growth.

After a moment Tom steeled himself and brought the butt of the rifle down as hard as he could on the throat of the raider. He immediately awoke, his eyes shooting open and wide and began struggling for breath as his ruptured wind pipe jammed. He rolled off of the bed with a clatter before getting to his feet. Before he could even muster the concentration to pull a weapon Tom smacked him again as hard as he could in the face and he fell over, either unconscious or dead, his nose broken, his throat bruised and blood trailing over his face.

Tom made his way down the tunnel and entered through a door. He found himself in a room whose walls suddenly became bulging rock as the corridor lead into a room that opened out into a natural cavern. Tom opened the door and immediately regretted it; bullets thundered at his feet and above his head and he threw himself back, kicking the door shut behind him. He could hear raiders cheering coldly below and the sound of footfalls on metal platforms.

He lifted the rifle and pressed himself next to the door, waiting for his attackers to crash through.

They didn't disappoint, the first raider charging through without a second thought. Tom caught the second one in the face with the butt of his rifle and they actually stumbled back and flipped over the railing of the metal walkway that lead down to the cavern floor below.

Tom turned to see the other raider already pointing a weapon at him. He instinctively ducked and watched as several bullets pounded into the raider, almost tearing them apart, spraying blood on the walls and dropping body parts on the floor.

Tom spun around to see a turret mounted to the ceiling of the cavern and aiming at him. He threw himself behind the door and kicked it shut, hearing the bullets slam against it.

"Come on pussy!" a harsh female voice called from down below in the cavern, "Fight like a man!"

There was a barred window on the right of the door and Tom spent enough time looking through it to attract the attention of the two turrets out in the cavern. He ducked down just in time, bullets sailing over his head and sparks erupting where they hit the bars.

Tom closed his eyes and concentrated hard on where he'd seen the turrets. After a long moment of silence he gripped his rifle and tensed himself.

Suddenly he sprang up, taking aim from memory and fired off two rounds as fast as he could and then ducked down. He heard the sound of something electrical frying and then exploding and an angry shriek. Tom smiled as he reloaded the rifle, slipping a full clip in. He concentrated again, then sprang up and fired. This time both shots missed, but the next shot hit home when tried again and the turret fizzed out.

Tom opened the door and looked down at the furious raider below. It was a woman, dressed in a very small amount of clothing. Tom lifted the rifle just as she lifted a strange pistol and they both pulled the triggers at the same time.

Her bullet whined past his shoulder, but his spun her sharply around. She dropped her pistol and fell to the ground.

Tom descended the winding metal walkway, making his way to the ground and carefully approached the still body.

He rolled over with his boot and saw that the bullet had gone straight through her chest… but she was still alive.

Her bloody chest rose and fell slowly, blood oozing from the wound and speckling her lips as she coughed. She looked up into Tom's eyes and Tom felt he knew what she wanted… but didn't think she could ask.

Whether it was mercy, self-preservation or just pure ruthlessness, Tom didn't know… but he obliged her unspoken plea and put her out of her misery and moved on.

Tom moved into more tunnels and soon found himself standing in a utility room amongst the bodies of several raiders and ghouls. The raiders had been picked clean of weapons and supplies, so obviously the fight had occurred some time ago.

Tom made his way through the room and soon was facing a set of stairs at the top of which were two closed, horizontal doors. Tom found the button to open them and stepped up into a room with a pool table, several chairs and beds and shelves full of empty bottles. He thought it might have been the rec room for the raiders that he'd just either killed or discovered.

He moved cautiously through the room, all too aware of the possibility that someone could come in at any moment.

Suddenly pain shot through him as a pool cue was shattered across his back and he stumbled forward onto the pool table, dropping his rifle. He turned around in time to see a woman, teeth bared, swing the handle of the shattered pool cue into his face, knocking him into darkness.


	30. Chapter 29

29.

The pain was incredible, but Tom only blacked out for a moment. His vision swam back into focus as his mind stopped swirling. He blinked in time to see the raider launching forward to stab him the pool cue shard. He lurched to the side and grabbed her wrist, pushing the stab past him, and wrapped his other hand around her throat, squeezing hard.

She bared her teeth and let out a gurgle and Tom let out a roar of exertion as he pushed himself away from the table and drove her backwards. She continued to try and press the cue into his stomach but he used all his strength to fight her off. They crashed into the wall and she bit her tongue as her head smacked the wall. She spat the blood from her mouth and continued to struggle, trying to scream through her closed throat. Suddenly her free hand whipped away from Tom's wrist and towards a knife in her belt.  
>Tom acted quickly, stepping forward, putting his leg behind hers and twisting her down. She tripped over his leg and he pushed her down hard and fast to the ground, where her skull cracked hard, the sound echoing through the room. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she went completely limp, all the tension in her body whisked away by the blow.<p>

The room was deathly silent as Tom looked down on the raider, vulnerable and devoid of violence… for the moment. He checked her pulse and for a moment couldn't find it, but soon he began to feel a very faint and weak beat in her jugular. She wouldn't be fighting again anytime soon. Tom left her there, retrieved his rifle and continued on through the room, his face aching and his back stinging.

Soon he was moving through further tunnels and he was reminded strangely of The Family's own train tunnels. However this comparison did not last long as he soon entered the station for the Museum, as indicated by the signs, and he saw how the raiders had decorated their shelter.

Bodies, some missing limbs, some missing heads and some missing all of the above; they hung from the ceiling, great metal hooks stuck through them, connected to chains, swinging slightly above the platforms.

The sight made Tom sick as he gazed up at the mutilated, torn and blood stained corpses.

He could hear footsteps echoing through the cavernous place but he couldn't see anybody. He moved cautiously forward, making his way towards the long stilled escalators, taking care not to step on any particularly delicate rubble. He was able to make his way up onto the platform and out of the station, moving through the atrium and through the chain link gates, which hung open, stepping up towards the light of the outside world.

The sky was overcast, dispersing the light and eliminating the shadows, showing clearly each facet of everything that lay beneath it.

When Tom emerged from the tunnels and out into the streets he could see a clear space on his left and the museum on his right. With a tight grip on his rifle Tom peeked out from under the awning of the station entrance and peered across the landscape. When he spotted no danger he sprinted for the museum, a tall stone building with a ruined face and several busts of a distinguished looking man carved into the wall. He got to the front doors and paused a moment, checking his rifle before slowly opening the doors and stepping in. Miraculously it seemed that the building's power source was still running, as several of the lights, though caked in dust, still buzzed and illuminated the lobby of the museum.

The entryway was flanked with tall pillars and at the other end of the room stood a desk with some rooms behind it. An old airplane replica lay wrecked on the floor damaging the stairwell on the right, rendering it unusable. On the left another set of stairs led up onto the balcony.  
>Tom silently moved up the stairs, wary of any wayward creaks, and kept his ears pricked and his body tense. He could hear noises coming from further within the building, but they were indistinguishable from the simple creaking of the old building.<p>

He made his way around the balcony until he came to an eerily familiar sight: a vault door.

The door hissed and opened and a voice immediately started up, crackling over the speakers and making a horrendous racket. Tom cocked the rifle and spun around, ready for mutants to come running from the shadows… but none emerged.

"The Museum of Technology would like to welcome you to the Vault-Tec simulation…" the voice said as Tom moved into the makeshift cavern, stepping over the papers and filth that covered the floors and ignoring the lights, undisturbed in centuries, that sprang to life and then erupted in a shower of sparks. He felt his skin crawl as he moved through a corridor that was exactly like home, door for door and window for window… only this was a horrific version of the world he'd grown up in. Blood was smeared across the walls and the occasional skeleton lay in his patch, some of them missing arms, others wearing caved in skulls. The friendly guide voice continued to narrate the tour until Tom finally came out at the other end, now on the right side of the lobby, by the broken stairwell.

He made his way further into the building, still unchallenged or threatened, until he entered an auditorium with a strange contraption in the middle. It seemed to be a kind of rotating device, covered in bulbs. As Tom approached it suddenly burst into life, the bulbs glowing and throwing star-like lights onto the walls and ceiling, and a voice boomed all around the room, "FOR AS LONG AS HISTORY HAS BEEN RECORDED, MAN HS HAD AN INSATIABLE HUNGER FOR KNOWLEDGE REGARDING THE UNIVERSE!"

"HEY! WHAT'S THAT NOISE!"

Tom spun around as the familiar voices cried out behind him, from the very door he'd entered the auditorium through. He lifted the rifle not a moment too soon as two mutants burst through the doors, brandishing guns of their own. The first was unluckily blinded by a passing star and cried out. Tom fired immediately, sending five bullets at the mutant. Three of them found deadly marks and the creature fell, but its companion roared with rage, pushing his corpsed comrade aside and fired off his own automatic weapon. The bullets pounded into the ground and ran towards Tom, who leapt back and dove behind the star contraption. The mutant's bullets immediately belted into the machine, causing it to shudder, hiss and flicker on and off, filling the room with a combination of smoke and dust.

Tom peered through the haze and saw the silhouette of the mutant approaching slowly, firing random bursts of machine gun fire through the room to keep him from running… but Tom had no intention of running. He took a moment to breathe and then stood straight up and squeezed the trigger, but nothing besides a hollow click followed. Tom cursed as he realised the weapon needed to be reloaded and ducked back down as the mutant swung the machine gun around, narrowly avoiding being scalped by a bullet. He dropped the rifle on the ground, pulled his pistol and blindly fired a bullet around the contraption. He heard a dull thud, a sound of pain and something clattering on the floor. He looked around to see the mutant gripping its mutilated and bloody hand, its gun and several fingers lying on the ground. The mutant glared over at Tom and suddenly charged forward. Tom fired off two more rounds and spun around, running towards the tiers of the auditorium. The mutant was close behind, undeterred by the bullets being fired back at it. They ran across the seats, drawing closer to the edge of the tiers where one of the exits was. As Tom leapt from the tier he turned in the air, firing the pistol at the mutant which was already at the ledge and ready to jump. One bullet hit it in the knee and two more travelled up its torso before a fourth hit it in the throat and a fifth went through its skull.

Tom crashed into the side of the tiered wall and fell to the ground hard, momentarily winded. He jumped as the large body of the mutant crashed down just in front of him, only inches away from crushing him, dust thrown up by the great body.

After a moment of recovery Tom retrieved his rifle, reloaded it and headed over for the exit. The door was locked, so Tom kicked it in and the wood gave away easily.

He followed a corridor for a few minutes until he found himself in the room he was looking for, with a balcony running along the wall and a second plane hanging from the ceiling.  
>There stood the Virgo II Lunar Lander, an ancient technological advance, with its strange bubble like compartment and grid worked legs… and the dish.<p>

Tom moved forward and found a way to disconnect the dish from the lander and then strapped it to his back over his pack, placing a spare magazine for the rifle in his pocket.

Suddenly harsh laughter split the air and Tom looked up to see a mutant grinning down at him and lifting its gun. Tom jumped back as the gun fired off, the mutant losing control momentarily and letting bullets slam into the side of the plane, snapping several of the wires holding it to the ceiling.

A second mutant ran past the first and leaped from the balcony, letting out a war cry, and landed heavily in front of Tom, smiling down at him with malice as it drew a long wicked blade from its belt.

Tom's mind was racing, knowing that he didn't have time to fight them both off… and then the plane caught his eye. He lifted the rifle quickly and fired, shooting at the nose of the old model. The bullet smashed into the nose and the wire released the plane. It swung down and the mutant looked around in time for the force of the hit to catch it squarely in the face. It was knocked to the ground where it growled in anger. Then there was a groaning sound as the rest of the wires snapped away from the plane and the entire thing landed, upside down on the mutant, crushing it beneath the dusty relic.

Tom took his chance to run back down the corridor as the entire building seemed to erupt with the sound of shouting mutants. Suddenly they were crashing through doors and barreling down the hallways after Tom, seemingly infuriated by his continued survivor. He didn't bother shooting back anymore; he only concentrated on getting out. Finally he was back on the lobby balcony. Not wanting to waste time with the simulation vault he simply ran forward and leapt from the balcony, aiming for the fragile looking wings of the fallen plane replica. His feet hit the wing and it immediately gave way beneath him, softening his fall only a little, and he fell to the ground hard, but kept moving forward, scrambling to his feet as he heard the sound and felt the shake as bullets were fired after him, slamming into the ground near him. He crashed through the doors of the museum and was immediately faced with several more mutants out on the plane. He lifted his rifle and fired off a few more rounds, killing one of them and injuring another. He bolted to the left, heading towards the Washington Monument which rose into the sky like a beacon of hope for Tom. He could hear the mutants pursuing him, crashing through the museum doors themselves and shouting as they chased him. As he ran he passed a ridge of grey, concrete rubble on his right and then he could see the base of the Monument, which was surrounded, like Tenpenny Tower, by a wall of concrete slabs stabbed into the ground, forming a virtually impenetrable wall.

He didn't notice the trenches on his right, dug by the mutants and lined with wooden planks, with doors leading underground riddled through it, which is why it appeared to him that suddenly a mutant leapt from within the ground itself and landed in front of him. It lifted a huge sledge hammer high, and shouting, "I… squish you like a bug!"

Suddenly metal hands caught the sledge hammer and pulled it back and out of the mutants grip. It spun around and was faced with two brotherhood soldiers, one of which seemed to be wearing a huge metallic fist with a slab of metal on the top connected to a piston. The soldier brought his fist back and punched forward hard. As the fist made contact with the mutant's chest the slab of steel was thrown forward by the piston with incredible speed. Suddenly the mutant was thrown back at least ten meter where it landed in a mass.

The soldier turned to Tom, "Get to the monument kid, now! We'll take care of the uglies." As he said this his partner picked the sledge hammer and spun on his heel, swinging it, before releasing it, throwing it hard in the direction of the other mutants. Most of the dived for cover, but a large one wearing a metal helmet caught the hammer in the face and immediately collapsed without a sound.

Tom needed no further incentive and ran toward the building. Two other brotherhood soldier, both armed with large double handed weapons that looked a little like gatling guns, stood guard at the door in the wall, a large iron gate, which had a yellow Brotherhood sigil painted on both sides.  
>The wall itself was slabs of concrete stuck together with planks of wood filling in the gaps and topped with barbed wire, a much more professional job than Tenpenny Tower's own similar wall.<p>

"Go on through," one of the soldiers said and pressed a button on the wall. The iron doors slid open and Tom stepped through into a corridor of barbed wire fence which led straight to the front door of the building. He stepped through it as a firefight erupted behind him between the brotherhood soldiers and the super mutants.

The interior was eerily silent, and a little cramped with rubbish littering the floor. Tom didn't waste time with sight-seeing, instead walking straight forward and into the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor and the doors slid closed. The hatch in the roof of the elevator was askew and Tom could see through into the shaft. Light was shining in through holes in the wall and soon Tom was able to see out into the capitol city as the elevator rose higher and higher into the sky, passing over gaping holes in the wall of the building. The sight and knowledge gave Tom a sick stomach and he was relieved when the elevator stopped and he was able to step out. Once he did he was able to see DC from the highest vantage point in the city, without fear of suddenly crashing down an elevator shaft to his death. It was grey, desolate and ruined, and ash rose up in the air and fluttered in the wind. He could still hear the echoes of battle far below while the brotherhood defended his life…  
>Not just his life, but the life of Galaxy News Radio. They were fighting the Good Fight.<p>

Tom moved around the top room until he found the relay equipment, with the console blinking and buzzing along happily, a radio sitting on top of it, but with nothing but static coming from the speakers. He turned and then saw the dish that needed replacing. It was attached to a grid work of metal beams which were bolted to the side of the building: if Tom wanted to finish the job he would need to climb out onto the metal frame and hold on very tightly.

He slipped the Virgo dish off of his shoulder and wrapped the rope around a different part. Then, leaving that dish behind and holding a spanner he found on the floor, he stepped out onto the ledge and inched his way onto the framework. The wind whipped at him and threatened to topple him off and the world spun beneath him, making him feel like an ant clinging to the side of a blade of grass in a hurricane.  
>He unplugged the wires from the broken dish first and then proceeded to unbolt it from the frame, being careful to pocket the bolts. Finally the last one came loose. The dish was immediately torn away by the wind, almost dragging Tom with it, and it went tumbling down to the ground, where it crashed down in the middle of the mutants' trenches.<p>

Tom held on for dear life, crying out as he nearly slipped off of the metal frame work and gritting his teeth as he fought to pull himself back on completely. Finally he did and then he made his way back to the floor, shouldered the Virgo dish and climbed back out onto the frame work. It was a lot trickier getting the dish back _into _position than it was getting it out, but eventually he was able to twist the last bolt into place, just as a hail of bullet clattered onto the framework around him. He cried out, dropped the spanner and lost his grip completely, slipping away.

For a moment he was weightless, falling down the side of the building. Everything was going slower than normal.  
>Finally, after what seemed an age, he scrambled and was able to get a grip on the framework again. His body jerked and halted as the fall that would have killed him was ended. His heart thundered in his chest and adrenaline rushed through his veins as Tom, tears of an emotion he couldn't entirely interpret spilling down his cheeks, scaled his way back up to the Virgo dish. He connected the wires, double checked everything, looking for bullet holes, and then, with a final heave, swung himself back onto solid ground, where he landed gratefully and lay a moment, waiting for the spinning to stop.<p>

Finally, after a long time, with only the wind as a companion, Tom made his way back to his feet and pulled the switches that were attached to the wall behind the dish, reestablishing the connection between the relay dish and the control panel. He switched to the Galaxy News Radio frequency on his Pip-Boy and then moved over to the control panel. He savoured the moment for a second before pulling the switch for it, connecting the panel to the GNR building.

For a moment all was still silent. 

Back in Megaton Gob wiped down the counter of the bar, the radio still hissing static, while Nova smoked a cigarette in the corner and Moriarty dwelled in his study. In Arefu Evan King sat at his usual post where, in an earlier time, he would have been in a constant state of readiness, armed to the teeth. Now he mostly greeted the trading caravans. His own radio hissed with static as he gazed out at the wasteland, which had been kind to them of late, since their visit from Tom Williams.

Vance did not generally allow radios in The Family, but he had one that he kept on in his office at a low volume in order to keep up with the daytime happenings of the wasteland. Since GNR's broadcast failure he hadn't checked on it much, though he did leave it on… just in case.  
>Roy Phillips was enjoying the sun and a strong whiskey on the balcony of Tenpenny Tower, his own radio on and hissing for the same reason, as the other active stations weren't worth listening to. The tower had been mostly cleaned up, but the blood stains from Burke's demise had been left largely untouched, at Roy's request.<p>

All of these people suddenly looked up and around when their radios all simultaneously ceased hissing. At first they thought perhaps the thing had finally busted… but then a familiar voice rang out which filled all of their hearts, even Vance and Roy's, with a warm hope and joy.

"People of the Capitol Wasteland, you can HEEEEAAARRRR MEEEEE! YEEEE HAAA! You can't stop the signal baby!" Three Dog's joyous howl rang through them and caught the attention of all within earshot of a radio. It was a voice that hadn't been heard in the general wasteland for a long time… a voice that had been sorely missed, "That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we're coming to you loud and proud in a special live report!" Suddenly his voice changed, putting on a strange voice that seemed to be an attempted imitation of the common man, "_But Three Dog, you're in that cool radio studio in DC. How do you know I can hear you all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere?_" and then he changed back to his normal voice, "Because of the kid from Vault 101, that's how."  
>Suddenly all of the patrons in Moriarty's Saloon were crowded around the radio, Evan King had fallen from his chair, Vance had gotten from his own to listen closer and Roy had dropped his glass of whiskey in sheer surprise.<br>Nova looked over at Gob and mouthed one word, _Tom?  
><em>Gob nodded.

Even Moriarty, listening to the transmission on his own little radio, raised his eyebrows and looked over at the speaker, curious, "Our lost little lamb has been very busy," he muttered to himself.

The wasteland listened as Three Dog told them the first story he would ever tell of 'That Kid from Vault 101'… but surely not the last.  
>"That guy actually managed to repair out antennae relay. How's that for ingenuity folks? From here on in it's 'bye, bye' stupid static and 'hello' magnificent music. So sit back, relax and absorb these classic tunes!"<br>And then the first real piece of music that Tom had ever heard in his life started up, and it seemed beautiful to him.  
>The start was the rhythmic tinkling of some piano keys, followed by a trumpet accompaniment.<p>

And then their voices broke in, a harmony of three female voices, mixing beautifully to create a humming sound so enchanting and foreign to Tom that it almost rendered the lyrics themselves unimportant, "_Each morning a missionary advertises neon si-eeen. He tells the native population that civilization is fine._"

The lyrics themselves in fact were _not _important… it was the music that mattered, which spread through the wasteland, causing desperate people to tap their feet to the rhythm, sing along if they remembered the song and even a few to dance with their wasteland companions, forgetful, for the moment, of their hunger, thirst and pain.

In that moment the Capitol Wasteland was, unknowingly, united in a way that bothered several individuals and groups, people that were now very interested in finding out more about this 'Kid from Vault 101.'


	31. Chapter 30

30.

Tom was escorted back to the GNR building by two of the Brotherhood, Knights Wyoming and Miller. They had been initiates together and had been fighting side by side for almost a decade. However this was essentially all the information that Tom was able to learn, for while they were two knights and a wastelander instead of a lone wastelander, the road was still treacherous and caution was still in need.

Tom was still grateful for the company, and he felt as though the knights admired him a little for his actions, though nothing was said out loud.

When they arrived at the GNR square, Tom shook their hands, thanked them and they parted.

Miller would be killed a month later after being ambushed by a group of Super Mutants… Wyoming would live to a ripe old age, eventually becoming a Star Paladin, the third highest rank in the Brotherhood. Often he would speak of his brief meeting with the Lone Wanderer, Thomas Williams, and of the glint in his eye that seemed to contradict his beaten and worn body.

When Tom finally stepped back into Three Dog's office he was greeted with an enthusiastic, "The hero of the wasteland returns!"

Three Dog strode over and clasped Tom's hand tightly, "Now GNR can be heard clear across the Capital Wasteland again. That'll give Eden and those muties something to think about. How was that for some extreme handyman work?" he beamed.

Tom nodded sheepishly, "Well… I just did what had to be done."  
>"And so ye shall be rewarded," Three Dog said, "I'll bet you're pretty keen to hear about your father?"<p>

Tom nodded, "I am. What can you tell me?"

Three Dog stepped back and around his desk, opening a drawer and pulling a flask out, taking a long swig from it. Afterwards he offered it to Tom, "A little rum for your tum?"

Tom politely declined.

"I don't know how you maintain your 'pleases' and 'thank you's' out here, kid," he mumbled, "Most people drop them after they make their first kill for a meal or to survive… that ones that _do _survive anyway." He took another long swig, looked over at Tom and put the flask away in the drawer, "When your dad passed through here he and I talked for a good long time. Like I said, he's a real stand-up guy. He mentioned some scientific mumbo-jumbo which didn't make any sense to me and mentioned something called 'Project Purity.' He also said something about going to visit Doctor Li in Rivet City… then he left in a hurry."

"Rivet City… is that the aircraft carrier?" Tom asked.

Three Dog nodded, "The one and only. Safest place in the Capitol Wasteland probably, next to the citadel."

"Could you point me in the right direction?"

Three Dog nodded, "Pull up your wrist watch map."  
>Tom brought the map up on his Pip-Boy and soon Three Dog had made a little mark, labelled 'Rivet City.'<br>"Just follow the river south and you won't miss it. Be careful though, the muties patrol the banks pretty heavily, and there's been talk of mercenaries. Other than that, there's not a whole lot more I can do for you kid. Good luck."

Tom stepped forward and shook Three Dog's hand again, "Thank you for your help."  
>"It's nothing kid, it's all for the Good Fight in the end… we're just two sides of the same coin. Go find your dad. And if you need a place to crash, GNR is always open to its saviour."<p>

Tom thanked him again and left.

A few hours later the sun was beginning to set and Tom was back at Farragut station, reloading his rifle and checking his pistol. He'd had to shoot his way through the raiders in the metro and had barely made it out alive. They had started to overwhelm him and he had been forced to run. After what had seemed like days of being pursued he finally found the way into Farragut's foyer. After dropping a grenade behind him and slamming the door closed Tom had pushed a Nuka-Cola vending machine over and barricaded the door. The darkness had prevented the raiders from seeing the grenade rolling along the floor once the door had been closed and Tom had heard the screams after the explosion and knew that he had insured his escape.

After a moment to catch his breath Tom started walking again, following the river, like Three Dog had said, gripping his rifle tight and ignoring the pain in his legs. The buildings on the opposite bank were just as hollow and shattered as the ones on Tom's side, and occasionally he saw movement, in which case he would freeze and take cover, if he could, or hit the ground. Once the coast seemed clear he would start walking again.

As he walked he passed a statue of a naked, muscular man bearing a ring that completely encircled him.

In the distance Tom could see the Washington Monument rising into the air… it seemed to bear a different feeling now that Tom knew it was transmitting Three Dog's signal: one of hope and strength.

Eventually Tom met a ledge in the pathway, with only water below. He was forced to move around to the left, following the curve of the river. Suddenly a sound made the hair on the back of his neck rise stiffly and he went stock still, lifting the rifle.

It was a shuffling sound, accompanied by some kind of wet smacking sound.

Tom's blood ran cold as a pink quivering mass emerged from the rubble. It was the nightmarish twisted vision of a man, hairless contorted. It had spikes along its front and back, and acting as legs were three pairs of arms with long, pale hands, covered in pink veins.

The eyes seemed to be hidden in its ever-lasting scowl and its mouth hung permanently open as three long, thick, pink tongues, each the length of an arm, protruded from it.

The creature made no sound as it waddled, grotesquely, forward, save for the shuffling sound of its skin on the concrete and the wet smacking sound of its tongues.

Tom gazed in horror as the creature leaned back and then launched forward, spitting a wad of brown goo in his direction. Tom leapt to the side and he heard his Geiger counter tick as the goo flew past. As the creature approached Tom lifted the rifle and fired three times. The first two hit it in the chest, slowing it down substantially as blood burst from the wounds, but the third bullet saved his life as it tore through the creature's skull and killed it. It keeled over on its side and twitched a little, letting out a final, sickening gurgle before all movement ceased.

Tom stepped around the ghastly creature, careful not to touch it, and continued down the path. Soon he found himself passing trucks that seemed to have been arranged as a kind of wall. Looking through the gaps Tom could see a tent and could hear what sounded like sobs coming from within.  
>Skirting around the trucks Tom stepped closer to the tent, noting the body of a woman next to it, clearly dead. He stepped quietly to the front of the tent and prepared to open it.<p>

What Tom didn't know was that the creature he had killed was known in the Capital Wasteland as a Centaur. They usually functioned as guard dogs for super mutants, and were rarely found without one accompanying it.

Tom threw back the front flap of the tent and immediately noticed its two occupants. The first was a woman on her knees with her wrists bound and covered in blood and bruises. The second was a towering super mutant. It was startled by the suddenness of Tom's appearance, giving Tom a moment to react. He was faster than the mutant in lifting his rifle and emptying the rest of the rifle's magazine into the mutant. It howled with pain and fell back, gripping onto the cloth of the tent and ripping down the back wall of it.

Silence descended and Tom cautiously kicked the mutant's foot to make sure it was dead. He then turned to the woman on her knees, "Are you alright?"

She didn't seem to hear him.

He found a knife and cut her bonds, "You need to get out of here," he said calmly, "it's not safe here."

"It's not safe anywhere," she muttered, "it killed her… it killed my sister…"

Tom sighed and grimaced, "I'm sorry."

He stood back up and rummaged through the bags in the tent. Finally he found a pistol with a box full of bullets and pressed them into the woman's hands, "You need to go now."

After a long moment she finally responded, "You go… I'll find my way."

Tom hesitated before nodding, "okay," and turning. He'd been walking for less than a minute when he heard the gun shot ring out. He didn't think she was under attack… he knew she had been completely and utterly alone… and decided that there were better places to be.

The maw of the wasteland had claimed yet another victim. It didn't murder them all… some of them it beat and tortured into submission, until they willingly threw themselves down its gullet and into its hungry and bottomless stomach.

Tom passed several dead trees that had been planted into the ground, before he finally decided that it was too dark to go on.  
>He didn't trust any of the buildings and so he stepped into an alley and found an empty dumpster to climb into, getting little sleep and even less rest.<p>

The next day was mostly uneventful as Tom continued on following the river. By midday he had passed under a large bridge that spanned the river, the only intact bridge Tom had seen at all, at the base of which had been a small hut made of tin and planks.

The sun rose higher into the sky as Tom continued on, passing what might have once been a radio tower, now missing its top half and a makeshift sign advertising Pirate Pely's Boats & Bait.

The day was beginning to wind to a close as Tom passed a large building with a domed roof, surrounded by yellow metal gridwork and platforms. Tom looked at the building and a strange feeling stirred in his stomach… something akin to déjà vu.

This sensation was eliminated, though after his next encounter.

Iron girders stuck out of the ground, twisted and sharpened, tipped in blood and surrounded the base of the hill. The place was inhabited by four or five super mutants, all watching and listening for any sign of attack. A road led through the girder spikes and led up to the top keep, which in turn was also decorated with spikes, and housed a prisoner, bound but certainly not gagged, and was kneeling by a fire.  
>Tom gazed up with pity at what looked like a small boy, held captive by the creatures, and dearly wished that he could do something… but he simply wasn't enough to take on the mutants, no matter how cleverly he did it.<p>

He made his way along the wall of girder spikes, trying to ignore the blood and skeletons that adorned them, and wracked his brain trying to think of a solution. The sun was beginning to set again and he was running out of time. He wasn't game to take the super mutants on in the dark but he couldn't just leave the boy to his fate.

Harsh laughter rang out from the keep and Tom looked up to see a mutant laughing down at the boy, whose on cries of pain mixed with the laughter, creating a sound that made Tom's skin crawl.

"Why you cry, little human," the mutant chuckled, "We not eat you… too skinny, no meat!" It laughed again, tickled pink by its own witticism, "No, we make you pet. You fetch sticks for us, roll over for us and sleep on rocks. Have fun with the centaurs!" it burst into cruel laughter again, joined by its brethren.

Tom brought the rifle up. He didn't care about being smart anymore; he wanted to take this heartless monster's head off.

He lined up the sights and was about to squeeze the trigger and possibly sign his death warrant when something caught his eye. He turned and looked out at the road that spanned the river, the same road that led into the mutant's nest.

Walking along it were four figures with unnaturally wide shoulders… no they weren't strangely wide, they were armoured. Then Tom saw the white sigil.  
>They were Talon Company Mercenaries. Suddenly Tom had an idea.<p> 


	32. Chapter 31

31.

Kent, the leader of this particular Talon team, was tired, hungry and in a generally pissed off mood. This made an already snaky character extra dangerous.

So when the bullet ricocheted off of the ground at his feet, making him jump and cry out, he spun around with black fury in his eyes and his comrades stepped back. The shot seemed to have been fired from the direction of the mutant's nest that they had made a point of skirting around, and Kent would have let the matter be at that, had a taunting cackle not come from that same direction, the cackle of a mutant, "Hahaha, stupid human. Jump like scaredy bird!"

"That son of a bitch," Kent muttered, "I'm gonna rip his head off! Come one!" He ordered his team to follow and they did, hiding their reluctance and checking their weapons.

After seeing that his mutant impression had been convincing, Tom silently made his way around to the bones of a car by the entrance to the Mutant's camp and crouched down, completely out of sight, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The mutants had also come down from the keep to find out what the noise was. When they saw the mercenaries advancing with their weapons raised the leader gave out a war cry and the entire camp rose and charged, some with guns, some with planks of wood and some barehanded. Their seemed to be at least seven or eight of them all up.

"TAKE 'EM OUT!" Kent roared and his team open fired and Tom pressed himself closer to the ground as the first torrent of bullets smashed into his cover and the girders in front of him. He heard mutants cry out and the sound of returning fire and at least one heavy thud.

Kent's team quickly realised that they were outmanned and immediately began their 'tactical retreat', backing up but keeping their weapons hot with firepower. As they drew the mutants away Tom, under cover of the now fallen darkness, snuck out from behind the car and into the den.

The place stunk of blood, rust and smoke. Tom made his way up the slope, trying not to look directly at the nets that swung from poles and girders, bulging with red glistening objects.

He reached the keep where a bon fire blazed and their lay the boy he had seen the mutants torturing. He raised his head and looked Tom in the eye.

"Don't worry kid," Tom said, "I'm here to help."

"You're not the first ghost to say that," the boy muttered before letting himself slump back against the makeshift rail.

Tom bit back comments of hope and reassurance, knowing them to be, at this time, a waste of breath and a noisy risk. Instead he simply proved his point through action, untying the brutally tight ropes around the boy's ankles and wrists.

He seemed confused and looked up at Tom a second time, this time with bewilderment.

"Can you walk?" Tom asked.

The boy nodded.

"Good, let's go."

They hurried down the slope and out of the den and made their way past. After a moment Tom finally realised the change in the air.

They had stopped shooting. Then a shout burst out from behind them.

"Hey! He stole our pet!"

"RUN!" Tom cried and they bolted, running as fast as they could.

They could hear the sound of mutants running and swearing and shouting at them in pursuit, promising to do awful things to them… and their bodies afterwards.

He could sense the creatures gaining so Tom grabbed the boy's wrist and helped him keep pace as they pumped their legs and sent their hearts into overdrive.

At first he didn't even hear anything, only felt the sudden weight in the boy's arm and the sensation of being pulled back. Then the sound his mind had delayed pierced his mind: the sound of a gunshot.

He halted and turned to find the boy crumpled on the ground, with him gripping his lifeless wrist. There was a bloody hole in his back.

No time for tears. Not time for shouting. No time to mourn.  
>Just run.<p>

Tom tore himself away from the gruesome sight and fled into the darkness, hearing the super mutants continue to pursue him, but only halfheartedly, now that they had a body to play with.

Tom continued to run for ten minutes after the super mutants had given up their pursuit, and then he found a pile of concrete rubble heaped up against a building to climb up into and settle down amongst, safe and hidden in a small almost invisible space.  
>Here he did not weep, not out of restraint nor purpose but out of sheer anesthetic sadness. It was too much to feel and vent.<br>So he lay silent and still until he slipped away into an even darker world.

He awoke again as the sky turned a bright pink colour, the sun only just beginning to peak out from the horizon. He crawled out from his temporary nest, stiff, sore and weary. He was out of food, water and his internals were almost ready to start a serious protest. He checked his map and felt a slight relief when he realised that Rivet City was not far.

Not fifteen minutes later Tom was gazing in wonder at the huge spectacle lying in the harbour.

The monolithic carrier had somehow split in half, its stern sinking backwards into the muddy waters, but its bow still relatively level. He could see a cross section of the ship where the two halves had angled away from each other, and strange machines up on the runway of the craft, some of them with multiple propellers.

Soon Tom encountered a structure on the bank that seemed to be several platforms connected by stairway that rose into the air by three levels. A sign had been bolted in place above the entryway: Rivet City.

Tom climbed the platform and soon found himself gazing out at the side of the carrier, completely intimidated by its sheer size and majesty. There was definitely a strange beauty to this relic-machine that now acted as a shelter to those who needed it, safe and secure. The ending of its original purpose had left it with the chance to begin a new purpose… a war machine converted into a haven.

Or so Tom romanticised the place as he gazed out at it. Finally he pressed the button on the intercom, which he guessed was a way to contact the other side. He couldn't quite figure out how he was going to get across.

He wasn't able to speak into this intercom, but a voice did answer, "Welcome to Rivet City. Please wait while the bridge extends."

Then the last most incredible detail of Rivet City was revealed as a crane that Tom had not even notice up until now suddenly groaned to life and shifted outward away from the side of the ship, swinging along platform out with it, held up by strong metal wires and chains. As the bridge extended the sun broke from the horizon and brilliantly illuminated the moment, shining brightly on the metal and water, almost blinding Tom as he gazes with great admiration at the bridge.

Finally the platform swung into place and Tom stepped tentatively onto the platform, wary of it, but sure that now would not be the moment that it chose to collapse.

When he finally made it to the other side and was standing on relatively firm ground at the entrance to the ship through a side door in the hull, a tall handsome man with dark hair and very civic looking armour approached him. He was armed but the weapon was not drawn… though Tom had no doubt that he could use it if he needed to.

"Hold it right there. Name's Harkness, now state your business in Rivet City?"

Tom tried to seem as relaxed and unsuspicious as possible, "I'm looking for a Doctor Li."

Harkness expression hardened… if that were possible, "Yeah? Let me guess: no, she's not expecting you, but it's really important and you need to see her right away? Been a lot of that going around lately and I've had just about enough of it, so you're going to have to do better than that."

Tom felt his mind connect the dots, "If someone else has come looking for Li then it was probably my father, James Williams. Grey hair."

Harkness scratched at his cheek, "Sounds familiar… pretty sure he left already… alright you can go in. Take the door on the left there and follow the signs to the science lab; that's where you'll find Doctor Li. Any funny business and you'll be leaving by the river instead of the bridge. Do we understand each other?"

Tom nodded as he looked into Harkness' eyes… he could see something behind them, a kind of flicker… something he wasn't familiar with.

He moved past and took the left door, twisting the large round handle and stepping inside.

Tom soon realised that Rivet City was a catacomb and that if he wasn't careful he could very easily get lost within it and have difficulty finding his way back. However he was very careful to follow the signs exactly and after heading down a corridor, turning right, passing a dormant motorcycle in the corridor, hitting the end and turning left he found a door with the words 'Science Lab' above. As he moved through the bulky corridors and over the paper strewn floors he began to feel as though he were somewhere familiar: the corridors and tight spaces were very reminiscent of the Vault.

Tom stepped through the door and down onto a platform which overlooked the whole lab, whose walls and floors were lined with pipes and tanks and with lights illuminating the whole room quite well. The room was bustling with people in coats working at tables with chemistry sets in various set ups.

Down below an older man in a crisp suit was arguing with a woman with long dark hair.

"Come now, Li, be reasonable," the man almost pleaded, "We will pay very handsomely for this equipment to be returned to us. All we want-"

"Zimmer I've told you," the woman retorted, "We don't have the time, the resources or the fucking patience to deal with your lost property problem. If you can't control your own machines well that's too bad, it's not on us to fix the Commonwealth's problem. We're scientists not guns for hire."

"Dammit woman I'm not looking for guns, I'm looking for intelligence and I was told that you possessed this quality!"

"Tread carefully Zimmer, you might be at the top of the food chain where you're from, but right now you're in _my _lab talking about _my _intelligence and trying to get _my _help."

"I need a scientist, Li, someone who knows what to look for, not a dumb grunt who'll shoot at anything that moves."

"You won't get what you're looking for here, Zimmer." Suddenly the woman noticed Tom standing on top of the platform and looking down at them, "Who the hell are you? Look kid this is a restricted area and I'm tired of telling you people-"

"Doctor Li?" Tom called down.

Li stopped a moment, seemingly confused by being so sharply interrupted, "Yes. What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you. It _is _urgent and I'm not interested in wasting time."

Li looked up at Tom a long moment before answering, "Tell you what: help Zimmer and his goon out of here and I'll give you five minutes."

Tom looked over and finally noticed that the man named Zimmer was not alone. A large man in a dark suit was glaring up at Tom.

Tom gazed back a moment before turning back to Li, "I can do that."

Ten minutes later Tom stepped back into the laboratory and made his way down to the floor.

Li had been leaning over another scientist's shoulder and taking notes when Tom cleared his throat.

"Got five minutes?"

Li turned around, "Yeah, what is it you wanted to-" and froze. After a long moment she finally managed a second sentence, "It's you… you're Thomas… James' son."


	33. Chapter 32

32.

Li led Tom into a room off of the lab that was lined with uncomfortable looking beds that could be folded back up onto the wall. There was also a desk covered in papers and some lockers over by one wall.

Li closed the door and when she turned she locked eyes with Tom for a moment. Finally she sighed, "Excuse me… you look remarkably like him."

Tom shifted his feet, not sure what he should say. He'd come here looking for this woman, someone who might have answers… for the moment he'd seemed to have forgotten the questions.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" Li muttered.

"You're Doctor Li… you worked with my father before I was born… but no, I don't really know who you are."

Li grimaced, "I think I need a small drink. Care for one?"

As Li walked past Tom he answered, "I'll pass thanks… feels like whenever I show up everyone's first reaction is a drink… I'd hate to be turning the last of the world into alcoholics."

As Tom spoke Li made her way over to the lockers and retrieved a bottle and a glass and then stepped over to the desk, not bothering to brush anything aside. "It would be the least of their problems," she muttered as she poured something clear into the small glass. It looked like water… but as the case with strong spirits it had a deadly glint to it, something unseen but visible nonetheless.

"How did you know who I was?" James asked.

Li paused, the glass half way to her lips. After a moment's hesitation she placed the glass down, "Like I said, you bear a striking resemblance to James and I worked with him for many years. I knew every twitch, every word and every walk he had… and you carry a good deal of them. But the playing field is somewhat uneven here, I suppose you should know a bit more about me other than 'I worked with your father'. What did he tell you about me?"

James shook his head, "Nothing."

"Typical," Li muttered. She gulped down the liquid and started to speak while she put the bottle and glass away, "Before you were born I worked with your parents… we were all scientists and we were all bent on making the world a better place. James was the best of us all, of course. He was just as ambitious and a little smarter… but it was his drive that made him stand out. Even the Brotherhood respected him enough to aid us, giving us protection while we did our work. Next to your mother I was probably his closest friend."

There was a heavy silence before Tom broke it, "What was she like?"

Li sighed and wouldn't face him when she answered, "A good woman… dedicated and strong… and your father's muse in many ways."

_How did she die?_

He wanted to say it out loud but he couldn't, "What happened?"

"Complications during childbirth."

Tom felt something grip his heart and he blinked hard, fighting back a sudden wave of sadness.

"Afterwards your father sort of… gave up. He abandoned our work and took you both into the vault. Part of it was to keep _you _safe but… but I think some of it was him running away: something I never thought him capable of. And then out of the blue," she turned to face Tom now, "He comes waltzing back here with that gleam back in his eye and spouting off all kinds of nonsense… just like the old days."

Tom's heart leapt, "How long ago?"

"A couple of weeks ago. And you were supposed to be in that vault like he wanted this whole time, safe and sound. What are you doing out here?"

"Following him," Tom answered, "I need to find him, Doctor Li, that's why I'm out here. What was he talking about?"

"Project Purity."

"What's Project Purity?"

A few minutes later they stood out on the runway of the severed vessel, looking out the building that had been surrounded by yellow metal walkways, pipes running from the river and in through the walls.

"It started out as a very simple idea," Li said. She had to speak over the sound of the wind whistling all around them and grabbing at their hair and clothes, "Fresh clean water for everyone. Simple… but it was a mammoth task. That building," she pointed, "Was to be our facility. We would build a unit inside it that would be capable of purifying the entire Tidal Basin at once. No radiation, no muck, just clean, clear water. Small scale tests were fine but anything on a larger scale just wouldn't work. We had the principles and we understood most of the science, but the area we were trying to tackle was just so… pervasive. I mean if we'd had better equipment or more time maybe we could've done something."

"What happened?"  
>"You happened."<br>For a moment Tom felt a stab of guilty and it must have shown because Li then hurried to explain, "I mean it wasn't just you. We had far more difficulties than we could handle to begin with but your birth and your mother's death was what finally pushed James over the edge. He decided that you were far more important than everything we'd been doing… and he just left. After he was gone the Brotherhood didn't think we were worth their time anymore and without their protection we had to abandon the machine and Project Purity with it. I took up my place here in Rivet City, studying portable fusion power and hydrophonics and that was that… until your father bursts into my lab and demands that we start Project Purity back up. I told him too much time had passed and that there was no way the machine would work and he promptly ignored me. He told me he could prove it would work and then took off to the lab in the facility over there. It was once the Jefferson Memorial building. Now it's a lone man's last desperate attempt to finish a dream he shared with his wife. I guess he never let the idea go but frankly I'm shocked that he would try again after all this time."

"That's all he mentioned?" Tom asked.

Li nodded, "And that was the last time I saw him, which was a few weeks ago. He must've found a lead on what he was looking for and followed it, but he's certainly not still there: the place is crawling with mutants. It'll be dangerous, but if you're trying to track him down, go there."  
>"Yeah I'm hearing a lot of that lately," Tom muttered. He gazed out at the building, thinking hard, "And I always give the same answer."<p>

"You're as stubborn as the old man, so I know there's no sense in trying to convince you not to go... but please don't go in those rags. You're lucky a small breeze hasn't killed you," Li flicked at a tattered shred hanging from Tom's shoulder. "Your father picked up his old clothes when he came through and left his vault suit behind. Not great for fashion but it's got a little armour on it; I think he might've stolen it from the guards' quarters. Come on."  
>Li led Tom back down into the body of the ship and soon he had changed from the tatters that had been his clothes and into a familiar feeling blue vault suit with a leather belt and a shoulder pads. He could sense the last traces of a smell on the clothes, the smell of his father as he remembered from living with him his entire life. It was comforting.<p>

After Tom gave his thanks to Li she said, "Everyone chooses their own path; who am I to deny them passage. Tom before you go… I'm sorry about your mother."

Tom sighed, "I'm sure you did all you could."

Li shifted uncomfortably, "Well… I'm sorry it wasn't enough. She'd be proud of you though."

"Thank you."

They parted and Tom left Rivet City, nodding to Harkness as he left and crossing the bridge.

An hour later he was sneaking past the now silent super mutant outpost. There was no sign of the boy he had tried to rescue, save a browny-red stain on the stony ground.

Jefferson Memorial was cylindrical in shape, with stony pillars holding up the domed roof. On top of that metal gridwork and platforms now covered and surrounded it; additions for Project Purity.

Tom stepped up onto the platform and followed it around, keeping his rifle steady. There were no super mutants in sight.

The sun shone brightly down on the building as Tom made it to the end of the walkway and down to the ground. A door lead into the building above which was a sign that read 'Gift Shop.'

Tom checked behind him before slowly turning the handle and stepping inside.

The corridor was narrow and dark and all was silent within. Tom made his way down and turned right, stepping into a lobby with a desk in the middle. The whole place was trashed and littered with papers and the occasional body. In the next room was a chemistry set, dusty beakers and test tubes sitting on a table with long stagnant chemicals residing within. This corridor went around in a square connecting with itself and was filled with computer equipment and lockers. The sheer eerie silence of the building had Tom extremely on edge.

Eventually he found a door labeled 'Rotunda' and stepped inside. Across from him was another door but on his left was a huge open cavern. A concrete path ran adjacent to the room, connecting the two doors and on each end of the path were tall stone pillars. The rest of the room was covered in water with a metal walkway moving around the edge of the circular room.

Rising up from the middle and into the ceiling was a huge glass tube filled with water, presumably irradiated. Surrounding the tube was a platform that stood on stilts in the water with computer equipment, possibly to monitor certain aspects of the station. The tube itself seemed to be plugged right into the ground, straight through to the water table.

Tom made his way up the stairs of the platform and found a large rectangular console covered in holotapes.

Just as Tom reached out to grab one and read the label he heard a tremendous roar and spun around.

A super mutant was rushing towards him from around the corner, behind the tube, lifting a sledgehammer high in the air.

Tom lifted the rifle and fired two quick rounds into its chest and was knocked back and fell against the wall of the platform, cracking one of the large windows. Red blood oozed from its wounds and it cried out again before starting forward. Tom fired two more rounds, one hitting it in the shoulder and the other in the neck. The creature stumbled but did not stop lurching forward. Tom fired one final round into the creature's face and it finally crumpled to the ground, shaking the platform as it landed heavily.

Tom reloaded the rifle as quick as he could and then froze, keeping his ears pricked for any hint of more attackers… but the last echoes of the attack drifted off and he slowly eased his finger off of the trigger and turned back to the holotapes.

They were labeled, the first being 'Project Purity Personal Journal: Entry 5.'

Tom picked up the disc and slipped it into his Pip-Boy and pressed the play button.

"_Even in Vault 101, my work on Project Purity never really stopped. Soon after we arrived my nightly routine included sneaking into the restricted areas and searching for… I don't know. Whatever I could find_."  
>Tom's heart leapt as he heard his father's tinny voice emit from the small speaker on the Pip-Boy. He leaned in closer and listened to the journal entry.<br>"_It was a Vault-Tech facility after all; the place was built with some of the most advanced technology this country has ever developed. Those excursions never turned up anything particularly useful. So one night… after half a bottle of scotch… I broke into the Overseer's office. It was easy enough to hack his console and gain access to the restricted files. Most of it was garbage: propaganda, spy records… just plain rambling bullshit really. But there was one name that stood out amongst all the others: Doctor Stanislaus Braun. I knew of Braun's work of course. He was a celebrity in his day, Vault-Tech's sorcerer scientist, leaving his peers in awe of his technological wizardry. But it was in Vault 101 that night in the Overseer's office I first learned of Braun's involvement in Vault-Tech's Societal Preservation Program and his work on something called G.E.C.K.: The Garden of Eden Creation Kit._"

The disc clicked and Tom ejected it and slipped in Journal Entry 8, the next he could find.

"_To be honest the G.E.C.K. sounded like pure fantasy, even for someone of Braun's capabilities. It was nothing short of a miracle, a terraforming module, capable of bringing life from complete lifelessness. But not only was this thing a reality it was actually distributed to several vaults to be used after an atomic war. Vault 101 was, sadly, not on that list. I did some digging and discovered Braun's name on the reservation list for Vault 112. I'm no slouch, but this man… he could have easily succeeded where I failed. Does his collected knowledge remain within the walls of 112? Journals, holotapes, computer records… maybe even experiments. If I could gain access to just a fraction of Braun's genius, Project Purity would become a reality._"

Click.

Entry 9.

"_I'm off to Vault 112 to search for anything of Braun's that might help me get this Purifier up and running. All I know is that it's west of some place called Evergreen Mills and it's well hidden in some sort of garage. But I'll find it… I have to. So close; that's the story of Project Purity isn't it: an eternity of 'Almost There's'. Let's see if Braun has the missing puzzle piece._"

Click.

Tom put the final entry back down on top of the console with the others. They'd all been saved to his Pip-Boy in case he needed to listen again… but he was pretty sure he knew what he needed to do.

He muttered the name to himself, "Evergreen Mills."


	34. Chapter 33

33.

Almost two weeks after leaving the Jefferson Memorial Tom was sore, hungry and covered in superficial wounds, one of which was a cut across his eyebrow received after a run in with some raiders. Nevertheless he had finally made it to the place where a trader outside of Rivet City had said Evergreen Mills was. He had followed the fallen skeleton of the overpass for three days and was now climbing up the treacherous and rocky slope of a hill. The trader had said that Evergreen lay in a small canyon and that it was an ant's nest of raiders. Tom needed to make sure he was in the right place before striking out randomly to the west so he needed to get a look at this 'nest'.  
>After about ten minutes of cautious climbing Tom finally pulled himself over the crest and looked down at the canyon below. He was definitely in the right place.<br>Standing against the opposite wall was a large concrete building with a water tower on its right. On the left were walkways similar to the ones in megaton, made up of sheets of metal and poles. They surrounded a pen made up of chain link fences that housed several worn and ragged looking people, whom Tom could only assume were slaves. Makeshift sheds littered the place and half buried train tracks ran through the canyon and led back out into the wasteland. Carriages, large and rusted sat on the tracks.

In the middle of the place was what looked like an enclosure: a round wall of sheet metal held together with wooden beams and poles; however, whatever was inside the walls, Tom couldn't see.  
>Raiders stood on top of the rooves of the buildings and kept a lookout. Tom remained as still as he could to avoid being spotted. He could feel dozens of eyes roaming over the rocks in search for something, anything… him.<p>

After a few more minutes of waiting Tom inched his way away from the edge and made his way back down the slope. When he finally got to the bottom he simply lay against it, his hand against his chest as he breathed in deeply for the first time since reaching the top of the slope. After a moment his heart beat finally returned to a somewhat normal level and he checked his map before getting to his feet and heading west.

After an hour of walking beneath the burning sun and against the raging wind Tom had an encounter that he would never forget.  
>He was trudging forward, staring solely at his feet when suddenly a spot on the ground in front of him seemed to explode.<br>He let out a sharp cry, leaping back and drawing his pistol, before looking up and around to see what was going on. What he saw he couldn't, for a moment, believe.

Trundling towards him on two triangle treads was a strange looking machine with a green cylindrical body and two long arms with three claws on each end.  
>The strangest part of this 'machine' was what sat on its shoulders: nestled amongst inside a glass dome and submerged in a strange looking green substance was a brain, grey and shiny and held in place by metal brackets and strange green gel.<p>

As Tom stared at the strange thing it uttered words from an unseen speaker, "There you are; were you trying to hide from me?"  
>The voice was feminine and sickly sweet, but had the clear electronic buzz of an artificial voice. It sent shivers down Tom's spine. He lifted the gun and fired one round straight at the glass dome.<p>

The machine blasted backwards and fell over onto its back with a hollow tin clatter.

Tom approached the fallen machine carefully and stood over it.

Cracks shot out from where the bullet had…  
>Been caught. It hadn't made it all the way through the glass.<br>Tom came to this realisation with horror just as the disturbing feminine voice said, "Tssk, tssk. I really thought we could be friends."

Suddenly one of the arms flung up as Tom cried out and slammed his foot back down on it, pinning it to the ground. Just then a bright red beam shot out from the palm of its hand and hit a tree nearby, leaving a harsh black patch in the wood where the laser had burned it.

Tom saw the damage and hesitated no more. He pointed the gun straight down at the brain and emptied his clip into it. After the first three bullets the entire dome simply shattered and the gel was blown to smithereens, along with the brain which, though Tom didn't know it, had been placed into the machine long before the bombs even dropped.

Finally his gun clicked empty and the machine, the Robobrain, was destroyed, unable to function without its organic CPU. As its power quickly faded it emitted the words, "Primary Objective: Protect Vault Data."

Tom left the strange and grizzly site behind him. The machines techno-death rattle had given him the confidence that he was in fact heading in the right direction.

After passing by countless dead trees and a toxic waste dump, brown vapour rising into the air, Tom finally found what he thought he might be looking for.  
>A torn and battered sign on the building read, 'Smith Casey's,' and while now it was merely a ghost, it was obvious that in its life it had been a mechanic's garage.<br>Surrounded by car wrecks, tyres and rubble the building was a very simple grey thing, almost placed on the ground at the top of a slight hill. On the right was a Red Rocket fuelling station, the red on the statue of the rocket was now faded to a dried blood colour. Rising high on the left was Tenpenny tower, far off into the distance. Remembering the previous lord of the tower Tom couldn't help but feel slightly watched.

After considering the garage for a long time he stepped forward and tried the front door. For a moment it held still, but after a hard nudge it pushed open.  
>The inside was musty and for a moment Tom almost choked on the air, it was so dusty and old. In one corner stood an old and battered Nuka-cola vending machine, beneath a window blackened with dirt and time. Several smaller radroaches scattered away from the sudden light, clicking angrily, but then disappeared into whatever hiding places they had found.<p>

On the right was a desk with a register and a smashed television and a radio that hadn't sung in a very long time.  
>The entire place was deathly silent. Even the sound of the wind of the wasteland was unable to penetrate this place.<p>

Tom made his way towards the doorway that stood just past the counter. As he stepped through he realised that he was in the garage itself, with tyres, cars and even a motorcycle littering the room.  
>A strange cry broke the silence and Tom's heart began to race as something started running towards him from behind one of the cars. It rounded the corner as Tom drew his pistol. It was one of the surprisingly vicious molerats that littered the wasteland. It pounded straight for Tom and leapt into the air just as he squeezed the trigger. It was knocked out of the air and fell to the ground, its breath wheezing from the bullet wound in its side.<br>It rolled its eye to look up at Tom as he moved over to it, and it was filled with fear and anguish.  
>For a moment this creature embodied the violence of the wasteland: Fear. Kill rather than die.<br>Tom put the creature out of its misery with a merciful bullet.

_Great I've found the place… now, how do I find the place _hidden _in it? _Tom thought to himself.

He glanced around the garage and spotted something: a pair of steel doors set into the floor. On the wall adjacent to them was a small red button.  
>After a long moment of thought Tom finally sighed, "Why not?"<p>

He stepped over and pressed the button.

There was a sudden hissing noise and the doors began to open outward, rising from the floor. They revealed a staircase, which, after bringing his rifle firmly into his hands, Tom began to cautiously descend. The path was pretty clear, with no deviating options. He simply followed a corridor as he descended beneath the ground and then passed through a generator room.  
>After entering a second corridor he looked ahead and saw something eerily familiar: a vault door.<br>_112._

He'd found the entrance.  
>He approached cautiously until the giant round door towered over him. He reached out and pressed the button on the control pad next to it to open the door.<p>

With another loud hissing noise, the sound of an alarm and metal grinding on metal, the door began to draw back and roll aside, revealing a foyer almost identical to that of 101. As Tom stepped in he couldn't help but feel that he might have even found some second, secret entrance.

He found the only door out, which was on the right side of the room, and passed through the corridor behind it. When he opened the door after that and entered the next room a voice greeted him that chilled his blood, "Welcome to Vault 112, resident!"  
>It was another Robobrain machine. Tom lifted the rifle and took aim but held fire as the machine approached him at a languid pace. Something didn't feel right.<p>

"According to sensors you have arrived two-hundred and three point three years behind schedule. Please proceed down the stairs to the main floor so that you may enter your assigned Tranquillity Lounger."

Tom lowered the rifle, "Tranquility Lounger?"

"Yes. Would you like me to show you the way?"

Tom nodded, "Yes, please."

The machine turned and led the way. Tom followed it down a set of stairs and then into a corridor lined with windows on the right.

Tom looked out into the main room and gazed at the sight before him.

The centre of the room was dominated by a huge, terminal, whose thick cords ran up into the ceiling, glowing red in some places, as on the faces of the terminal. Surrounding the machine were several padded loungers, nestled amongst machinery and technology that made the whole thing look like some sort of egg shaped pod, and there at least a dozen of them. Monitors attached to the terminal faced each pod and some of the pods appeared to be occupied.

The Robobrain led Tom down into the main room and he began to inspect the pods.

After seeing an empty one and another that appeared to be broken he found one with a woman in it. He tapped on the glass, but she didn't respond, though her eyes were open. Her face was lit up by a light source he couldn't see.

He moved to the next pod and found a man in the same situation. He turned to the Robobrain, "What's wrong with them, what are they doing?"

"They are now immersed in the Tranquillity Lounger: They are in a happier place."

Tom moved around to the next pod, peering in through the windows.  
>His heart stopped.<p>

It couldn't be… had he really found…  
>There, lying in whatever strange stasis these loungers put people in, was his father. His eyes were vacant and his expression blank, a far cry from his usual expressive face, but it was definitely him.<p>

Tom couldn't believe he had actually found him. He hammered on the glass, shouting, "Dad! Dad, it's me! Come on talk to me!" He turned to the machine, "Let him out now!"  
>"I'm sorry," the Robobrain responded, "I do not have the authority to do this. Only Professor Braun does."<p>

_Braun?_

"Where is he?"  
>"The only way to speak with the professor is while immersed in the Tranquillity Lounger," the machine moved over to one of the vacant pods, "We happen to have a vacancy, sir, if you wished to speak with Professor Braun."<p>

Tom marched over, shrugging his rifle and backpack off and placing them at the base of the machine. He also laid his pistol on top.

"So what do I do," he asked the machine, "Just lie down on the chair?"

"Yes," she/it responded, "The lounger will do the rest."

Tom climbed up into the lounger and lay down. The fabric on top of the chair was very comfortable. For some reason its lulling effect worried Tom.

The hatch of the machine came down and sealed him in and suddenly an intense cold filled the chamber. A crown of metal descended and settled on Tom's head and he began to immediately feel dizzy as the signals in his brain were interrupted and changed by the equipment that he had willingly stepped into. After this a screen on the ceiling of the hatch unfolded and extended to sit in front of him. The image on it was sepia toned and on it were the words, 'Please Stand By.'

Slowly the image on the screen began to take over Tom's entire vision, and soon all he could see was the image… and it was no longer an image, but something in front of him. Suddenly the image/vision changed to a small suburban street with tall, full trees and white picket fences. Everything began to fade away… but not before the image of a small girl with ponytails flashed before Tom's eyes so fast he wasn't even sure he'd seen it at all… and then it all slipped away…


	35. Chapter 34

34.

_Blinding light… pain… piercing ringing in his ears…  
>He sits up, something rough beneath his hands and shakes his head. Something falls from it.<br>Sand.  
>He looks around and he sees he is sitting in small child's pit of sand.<br>"You're in my sandbox."_

_He looks up and sees a girl looking down at him. She's wearing a dress and it's… pink? Blue?  
>He can't tell. Everything seems so… grey… no colours.<br>"Where am I," _and who am I.

"_You're in Tranquility Lane," the little girl says, "We all live here and now so do you. Oh boy, someone new to play with. What luck, I was just starting to get bored. We're going to have so much fun." Her eyes seem to be slightly sunken into her head. Not enough to be obvious but enough to be… unsettling._

"_What… I don't live here, I… I don't…" he doesn't know where he lives… he remembers something… maybe nothing… his head begins to hurt as he lifts himself out of the sandbox… something doesn't feel right. He's only as tall as the girl._

"_How old are you?" He asks._

"_Ten," she says, "Just like you."_

_Something's not right.  
>She holds a mirror out to show him and he sees a small boy in a striped shirt with a watch on his wrist instead of… something else… a device.<em>

"_And you _do _live here silly. You live here until I say you don't. I know… let's play a game!"_

_He turns and looks around as he says, "I'm not a little kid," _am I_, "I don't play games."_

_They're standing in the middle of a playground, with a swing set, a sandbox and a slide. The playground is surrounded by a circular cul-de-sac, each house almost identical, save for one with an improvised lemonade stand sitting in front of it. Other people are walking around, seemingly unaware of the strange exchange going on in the middle of their little street. A dog smells a bunch of flowers by a tree and then looks up at him with knowing eyes… familiar eyes._

_He frowns as something comes back to him, "I'm looking for something… my father. I'm looking for my father," he turns around to look at the girl, "have you seen him?"  
>The girl touches her chin with finger in a mock thinking pose, "Gee I don't know. What's he look like?"<em>

I don't know_, "ah… he's old… and a scientist. He was looking for… a Doctor Braun."  
>The girl laughs… it's cruel and mocking, "That's your daddy? Oh we're going to have so much fun; this is going to be the best game ever!"<br>He gets mad. He steps up to her, intimidating, "Enough! No games. Tell me where my father is?"  
>The girl reaches out and pushes him… he's a little bigger but somehow he goes flying back, an electric shock running through his body and he lands on the road hard. The dog starts barking at him, but the rest of the neighbourhood ignores him. The girl comes closer.<br>"Oh don't be mean. That's not a good way to start. I said we're going to play a game, so that's what we're going to do." She seems bigger, more menacing and her voice gets deeper as a layer of threat seeps into her voice.  
>"What the hell are you?" he almost has it all back now, his name, his memory.<br>"I'm the boss and you'll do what I say."  
>He thinks of protesting… but he doesn't know if he'll survive the next shock, "Right… so what's this game?"<em>

"_I knew you'd come around. It's a really simple game. All you have to do is make Timmy Nesbaum cry."  
>He shakes his head, confused, "Timmy Nesbaum?"<br>"The boy at the lemonade stand."_

_He gets to his feet and looks over at the boy in the lemonade stand… apparently the lemonade is five cents.  
>"Make him cry," she says, "And then come back to me and we'll talk some more."<br>She walks away, whistling a tune that seems to slip into the air like a real creature, perhaps a bird. But no creature, beautiful or not, that fits in this world can be good… everything is off.  
>He walks up to the little boy, "Hey… uh, Timmy, right?"<em>

_The boy nods, "Yeah. Hi! What's your name?"  
>"Uh…" for a moment he doesn't know what to say… then something blurts out, "Tom. I'm Tom." <em>Sounds right.  
><em>"Hi Tom."<em>

_For a moment there's an awkward moment while he tries to think of something to say… "I uh… heard something really awful. About you… your parents."  
>The little boy looks up at him with a frown, "What do you mean."<em>

"_I heard they're getting divorced… and it's because of you. I heard that they don't love you… so they stopped loving each other." Each word makes him feel worse and worse… but this world isn't real _(is it?) _and surely this won't actually hut him.  
>But then the boy's eyes shine and tears spill down his cheeks and he runs, knocking his stall, back into his home, crying out for his parents, asking questions. A pitcher of lemonade falls from the knocked stand and it shatters on the sidewalk, lemonade running over the concrete and spilling into the street.<br>He doesn't know what to do… he hates himself.  
>Somehow he finds himself standing before the girl again.<br>She laughs, her smile starting to make his stomach twist, "You sure showed him didn't you." Suddenly he voice changes. She sounds like a man… an old man with a German accent, "A very effective way of dealing with the situation. Very intuitive. Consider the game won. And with that you win a prize. Your prize is one question which I will answer to the best of my ability."  
>More things float back to memory. He realises it's not a girl, it's just a trick… he doesn't have to be afraid of hurting her. He steps forward, "I'm not playing anymore of your games."<br>The girl's voice goes back to normal, "No? Then I'm afraid you'll never be leaving." Then her voice is a man's again, "I decide when you may leave, and unless you start cooperating you're going to have a very long stay here on Tranquility Lane."  
>He's angry, can't control it anymore. He leaps forward, hands at the front of her dress, pulling her, threatening her, ready to throw her to the ground and beat the illusion, the puppet, until its master yields.<br>She strikes out again, a shock runs through his body, he flies back, he collides with a tree.  
>Black.<em>

_Whistling. He can hear whistling.  
>His eyes open and an older woman sits by his side. He's lying in a bed and tries to sit up.<br>"Where am I… and who are you?"  
>"Betty likes to call me Old Lady Dithers," She says, "I don't remember my actual name… it's been so long. She makes me look after people after she's done playing with them."<br>He rubs his head while she keeps talking.  
>"You're new, you have to know, this isn't real, none of it."<br>It's all coming back… he remembers everything… somehow the girl, Betty, has jolted his memory. He's Tom and he's looking for his father, James… and he's in the depths of Vault 112.  
>"Yeah I know. It's some sort of… simulation. Some guy… Braun, I think his name is, must have made it."<em>

"_It's Betty," the woman mutters, "the German, the scientist, it's Betty. He's controlling all of it. It all needs to end, the suffering. You need to trigger the failsafe." She's pleading now, begging Tom to hear her and help them all.  
>He pulls back, "Okay, relax. What are you talking about, what failsafe?"<em>

"_It's in the abandoned house. She doesn't want us going in there because he's afraid we might find it. It's the only terminal to the outside; the only way to shut the whole thing down. You've got to find it. Please!" she's getting mixed up, saying he and she for the girl, for Betty/Braun.  
>"I will. I'll go now." He gets up and she watches as he leaves, the stranger trapped in the small boy's body.<br>He steps out into the street and can immediately hear the whistling so much more clearly. It chills his bones.  
>He scans the cul-de-sac and spots the only house that Dithers could have been talking about. It certainly looks abandoned.<br>He begins to make his way over when suddenly-  
>"Hey, Tommy!"<em>

_He… she… it knows my name._

_He looks around to see that she is still standing in the playground. So is the dog. She is beckoning… he walks over to her.  
>"Where were you going?"<br>"For a walk," he mutters.  
>She considers this and then lets it go, "Are we willing to be reasonable now? I ask so very little of you."<em>

"_I don't really have a choice, do I?" he responds curtly._

_His true voice comes through, "There is always a choice. Sometimes it's just easier to make."  
>"What do you want me to do?"<br>"Pay a visit to the Rockwells. They're very happily married and I'd like that to change. Put an end to their marriage and we'll talk."  
>Tom gets up close, anger swelling. He knows the thing is ready to strike if he makes the wrong move, "You're a sick fuck."<br>As he walks away the girly voice calls after him, "Have fun!"_

_The dog whines as Tom walks past it._

_Tom spends some time watching the Rockwells, Janet and Roger, trying to see if there's a problem with them… he can see none.  
>Until Roger and their neighbour, Martha, run into each other. They get along so well… Janet doesn't like it. Tom can see her standing in her doorway, watching them. She's jealous of Martha… she's younger, her hair is so wavy and her legs are so long. Roger's eyes don't wander, but Tom and Janet can both see that he wants to let them wander, to see, to gander.<em>

_Roger goes back home, to Janet… and Tom has an idea as Martha visits a different neighbour._

_He sneaks into her home and up the stairs into her bedroom. He rifles through her draws until he finds what he's looking for… the smallest pair of adult women's underwear he's ever seen.  
>He wonders to himself if this is right… and answers, <em>of course it's not… but none of this is real and I have to get out of here.

_He pockets the lacy underwear and sneaks out the back door to make sure he isn't seen. He makes his way over to the Rockwell's home and looks in through the back window. The kitchen is empty, and the way to the basement is clear. He sneaks in and can hear the Happily Married Couple talking pleasantly with each other in the living room.  
>He makes his way to the door in the hallway that leads to the basement and creeps down. He finds a desk in the corner and drapes the underwear over a corner of it.<br>Later he returns, while Roger is out speaking with more neighbours (seemingly the only thing anybody does in this place) and knocks on their door. Janet answers.  
>"Oh, hello?" she looks down at Tom quizzically, "Can I help you?"<br>He tells her she should look in the basement. She doesn't understand why. He insists. It occurs to him that nobody in this strange place has taken note of the fact that a random ten year old boy has arrived and is walking around doing awful things, liking making little boys cry.  
>He returns to the playground and watches with Betty as Janet storms out of her home, brandishing the lacy underwear, slaps Roger and declares their marriage over, and he a son of a bitch. Betty watches with glee… Tom watches with a knot of disgust at himself in his stomach.<br>Betty is using her real voice, the male one, "That was delightful. You have turned out to be quite resourceful it seems. I am slightly impressed. I enjoy your company far more than your father's. He responded quite negatively to my requests."  
>"Where is he? I know you have him in here."<em>

_Braun/Betty smiles, "Have you met Doc," he/she gestures to the dog. "He arrived before you did… you might find that he's quite familiar."_

_Tom can't believe it. He moves towards Doc, the dog with those strikingly familiar eyes, and the dog looks back at him with sadness.  
>"Dad," he whispers, "is it really you?"<br>The dog looks back knowingly and he can feel that gaze, that all-too familiar gaze._

"_Before you get all close and familiar again, remember that there are more games to play, and if you do not play them properly, Thomas, your father may find himself lower on the food chain than he already is."_

_Tom looks around, "What do you want now?"_

_The girl-thing smiles, "Oh… just a little murder."_


	36. Chapter 35

35.

"_Kill Mabel Henderson," Braun says, "Find an interesting way to do it please, I'd like to see how creative you can be."  
>"No." Tom won't do it. He's had enough.<br>"Still you resist me when you know that I have the answers you seek. Well I am not going to beg you. You know what I ask of you, and so you know what you must do to retain my favour."  
>"Enough of this bullshit!" he steps forward, though wary to stay out of reach of anymore shocks, "What have you done to my father," he looks over at the dog and it looks back, sadly.<br>"Mabel's waiting," he doesn't answer, "Do as I say… and I might let the two of you free. She won't really die… I'll just bring her back."  
>She won't die… this is all Tom can cling to as he breaks into Mabel's home (though it is hard to <em>break _into a home with unlocked doors) and looks around. A fresh pie sits on the window sill… it smells beautiful.  
>Tom looks from the pie to the oven and almost hates himself for the thought that springs to mind.<br>He knocks the pie from its perch and it splats on the grass, ruined. Then he reaches behind the oven and pulls the gas pipe out. He can only hear it hissing out if he stays very still and listens very hard… Mabel would never know it was there.  
>He gets out of the house and finds Mabel chatting with the postman. He tells her that he thinks he saw a bird knock her pie over.<br>"Oh fiddlesticks!" she cries, "I'll just have to run over and bake another." She runs over to her house.  
>Tom walks slowly up to Betty and she says with glee, "Did you do it?"<br>Just at that moment the Henderson home is engulfed in flame and smoke, the windows shatter and a scream can be heard from within, short but torturous.  
>Betty jumps and laughs with glee, clapping, "Oh my, wow! That was splendid," her voice has slipped into Braun's again… it's happening more and more.<br>"Bring her back," Tom mutters._

"_Not right now," she answers, girly… for the moment, "I want to have some more fun first. Appliances certainly can be dangerous, can't they?" he slips back into his real voice, "You are most resourceful and you certainly do get results. You have exceeded expectations. And now we come to the last task that I have for you. Succeed and you shall be granted whatever you wish."  
>Tom can only glare, "I hate you."<br>"These are your decisions boy… and besides I don't recall asking about your feelings on the matter. If it has not been made perfectly clear to you, _I_ am in control here. I dictate your actions and the actions of those around you. You will continue to do exactly as I say, or you will find yourself suffering from a sudden and inexplicable aneurism." He slips back into the girly voice, "And that's if I'm feeling generous. For now though you will become the pint-sized slasher. You will kill everyone in Tranquility Lane and you will do this because I say so… then I'll bring them back and we'll start the game again, with a different round." Back to his true voice, "Behind the abandoned house, in the dog house, are a knife and mask. You will use them to terrorise the residents of this quaint little street."  
>"What the hell is the pint-sized slasher?"<br>"A figure of myth, born of old campfire stories. You will make him a reality. The residents will know you and fear you. When they have all been eliminated, return to me."  
>Tom turns away, but doesn't leave.<br>"You're conflicted… but then you've already committed one murder," he stares over at the flaming wreck of the house, "What's a few more… if it makes you decision any easier know this: the longer you stall, or resist me, the more bored I'll become… and once I'm bored who knows what I'll do to your currently canine father."  
>Tom blinks back tears at the thought of this creature hurting his father… and he forces himself to walk towards the abandoned house. He finds the dog kennel and the knife and mask inside.<br>The mask is truly disturbing, a clown face, grinning wide with bleach white teeth, a big round nose and a silly clown hat. It sends shivers down his spine and he almost tosses it aside, right then and there… but he hears Doc barking and whining and knows that if he doesn't do this, his father will be hurt.  
>He dons the mask, grips the knife and heads for the Rockwells. Janet is on her own, sobbing at the kitchen table.<br>The backdoor swings wide and she looks up. She sees Tom in the outfit and screams, "The Pint-Sized Slasher! Get away!" she jumps from the table and runs, Tom close behind. He chases her up the stairs and she tries to slam her bedroom door closed to keep him out, but he hits it before she can and she falls to the ground. She scurries to the corner and cowers, her arms covering her, sobbing and gasping as Tom advances, gripping the knife, and, to her, leering down, enjoying the moment before the kill.  
>But Tom can't even raise the knife. He tries but he simply can't. It falls to the floor.<br>He takes the mask off and throws it across the room. He looks down at the whimpering woman. She can sense something is different. She peeks through her arms and sees a boy with conflicted and regretful eyes.  
>"I'm sorry," he whispers, before turning and running.<em>

_There's only one other option. The failsafe. He knows he won't have much time, but he has to try._

_He waits at the door for a moment, preparing himself… then he flings it open and runs as fast as he can, his shoes pounding the asphalt, his heart thumping in his chest and his lungs processing air faster than they should. He doesn't look anywhere, only focuses forward, not wanting to slow for anything.  
>He can hear Betty whistling that incessant tune. She hasn't noticed-<br>"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"  
>Yes she has. He can hear her running after him, and barking and someone else.<br>"GET BACK YOU MONSTER!"  
>Tom makes it to the door of the abandoned house and turns to see what's going on.<br>Dithers must have seen Tom and has leapt at Betty, tackling her to the ground. She's hitting her while Betty tries to shove her off, but she can't muster the concentration because Doc is growling and pulling on her leg with his teeth, tugging and biting hard, her grey blood staining his muzzle._

_She gives a hard shove and Dithers is thrown back. She gets to her feet and looks up into Tom's eyes, "Save us!" she says, "Please!"_

_Doc howls and whines as Betty kicks him away. She's now flickering not just in voice but in appearance, flickering from the small girl to a tall old man and back, over and over. He turns on Dithers whom charges forward and wraps her bony fingers around his neck as he slips back into Betty. Betty places her hands on Dithers' face and Tom can hear the electricity coursing through her as she screams.  
>He opens the door and slams it behind him.<br>The front room is just like all the others, with the stairs in front and the hallway on the right, leading into the kitchen, but the room is in complete disarray. There is a desk on the left, an upturned couch with a garden gnome sitting on top, a side table with a cinderblock on top and a coffee table with a glass pitcher and radio on top of it. On the right, next to the door, is a small table with a glass bottle on top.  
>Tom approaches the gnome, which leers at him. He decides that he hates it and goes to swat it aside. His hand hits it but it doesn't budge. It does, however, emit a sound: a musical note.<br>Tom frowns. There isn't much time to think so he tries to put himself into overdrive. He moves around touching the objects until he find that the gnome, the cinderblock, the glass pitcher, the radio and the glass bottle all emit sounds. There's something familiar about the notes they play.  
>Then he notices something. Betty is still struggling outside, either fighting Dithers or Doc… but she isn't whistling. He starts to remember the tune and then fiddles around with the objects until he mimics Betty's tune with them.<br>All of a sudden the whole building shudders and all of the as before immoveable objects topple over… except for the cinderblock.  
>On the bare far right wall a computer terminal suddenly shimmers into view, along with a monitor and keyboard. Tom makes his way over and starts tapping into the system. He find the section 'Auxiliary Command Terminal.' Tom doesn't remember much computer jargon, but this one sounds like he might be heading in the right direction. He enters the folder and finds no sign of anything called a failsafe, but instead finds an option, 'Access 'Chinese Invasion' Program''. He finds a file that explains the particulars of the program himself. The house shakes again and he has a feeling that Betty is about to tear her way in.<br>He scans the information and determines that, according to it, only the subjects have been immersed for a significant amount of time (over two years) would be terminated by the bug in the program. _In theory _he and his father would be safe. And Braun, of course, the administrator of the entire system. In fact he would be trapped, being unable to leave unless the actual activator of the failsafe allows it. Tom relishes the idea of leaving him in here forever, trapped.  
>He activates the failsafe and suddenly something changes in the air. The house stops shaking and he can hear gunfire.<br>He steps outside to see what seems to be a Chinese Communist Firing Squad (according to the pictures in the books in the vault) marching through the street and shooting down the residents. They run and scream before finally falling, riddled with bullets. The firing squad ignores Tom. He can see Braun, still Betty, screaming with anger in the middle of the playground. He starts towards her.  
>She spots him and charges at him. He prepares himself for an electric shock but she bounces off of him. She's shorter than him now… he's back to his full height. He touches his face and feels the face of a young man, not a young boy. He's returned to his real self… Braun's power has wavered.<br>Doc is still a dog though, and he is sitting on his haunches by a door that seems to have appeared in the middle of the playground.  
>Betty continues to beat her tiny little fists against his stomach, "YOU! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" Tom grabs her wrists and then shoves her back. She falls on her back and flickers into her true self: Braun. He crawls to his feet but Tom steps forward and knocks him back down.<br>"Don't you dare touch me!" he cries, "I will tear you apart and put you back together a monster."  
>"Don't you get it Braun," Tom answers, "It's over. You've got no power left over us. Over anything." He kicks the old man back down and places his boot on his neck, "You made them suffer so much, for your own sick amusement. I imagined over and over what it might feel like to wrap my fingers around your neck… but now I've got a much better idea. I'm going to leave you here. Forever. Alone and trapped." He steps off of Braun's neck and walks towards the doorway. He hears a scrambling behind him and turns to see the elderly scientist fall to his knees at Tom's feet, "KILL ME! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! I CAN'T TAKE THAT TORTURE!"<br>Tom doesn't turn, only says, "You've been dishing it for centuries… it's time you got some back."  
>He doesn't see as Braun pulls a small knife from his pocket, something not much more than a letter opener. He rises silently, glaring at Tom's back.<br>Tom doesn't know he's about to be stabbed in the back until Doc suddenly growls and leaps forward, catching Braun's arms in his mouth and jerking hard. Braun lets out a shriek and drops the knife as Tom turns, eyes wide, and realises what happened. He steps forward and delivers one swift, hard punch to the nose and Braun topples back, unconscious.  
>Tom and the dog turn back to the door. They look at each other.<br>"Let's get out of this place," he says to Doc, whom responds with a bark.  
>He opens the door, revealing a white light, and the two step into it and are enveloped…<em>


	37. Chapter 36

36.

It was black for a long time.  
>Then the lid of the pod opened up and Tom was suddenly flooded with real-world sensations: the cold of the room, the bright burn of the lights, the smell of his own sweat on his clothes. He let out a yelp and rolled out of the lounger and hit the ground hard and let out a groan. His head felt strange and light while the rest of his body felt like lead. He eventually pulled himself to his shaking legs. His mind was still bringing all his memories to the forefront of his mind as he muttered, "That was the worst experience of my life."<br>"And you thought getting your inoculations was bad."  
>That voice, soft, deep, compassionate… familiar. It was as though, for the moment, the world had frozen.<br>Tom slowly turned, unsure if he would believe what he saw, even unsure of what he might see… but finally there he was, standing before him.  
>His father.<br>"Dad?" barely a whisper.  
>A small moment to look into his eyes and then Tom was moving forward, as if in a dream, before moving faster and then throwing his arms around his father, holding him tight. He felt his father's chest vibrate as he chuckled and held him just as tightly.<br>"Son," he muttered and Tom could feel the flood of nostalgia as his father held him close and spoke to him in a loving tone as he so often had deep down in another vault, "You've saved me… I was afraid I've be trapped in there forever. It's so good to see you."  
>His father loosened his arm and held Tom at arm's length, "But what on earth are you <em>doing <em>here?" he said with a laugh.  
>Tom wiped tears from his eyes, "I came here to find you… a lot of stuff got in the way but I'm here Dad. I'm here."<br>"Lucky for me: this certainly wasn't how I had expected things to go. I had no idea that when I got here Braun would be a lunatic. In fact the sooner we're out of here, the better. Let's get out of here, Tom."  
>"I second that motion," Tom muttered. He grabbed his pack from next to his pod, tucking his pistol back into his pants unaware that his father was eyeing this and the other weapons he had with him.<br>They fetched James' things and headed back to the surface. As they went Tom asked, "So what was it like being a dog?"  
>"You know," James answered, "Not all that bad… although not having my thumbs drove me mad."<p>

They raided some of the freeze dried stores in the facility before finally leaving, pushing one of the rusty motorcycles over the entrance and cutting the power line to the activation button.  
>"We'd hate for anybody to accidentally stumble into Braun's hands again," James said.<br>Tom was beginning to notice the changes his father had gone through since leaving the vault. He still had his lab coat but now Tom was wearing his vault suit, and instead he was wearing a pair navy pants and a button up shirt. But more than that he had lost a great amount of weight and he looked tired and his hair had gone almost completely grey. He had aged a great deal and Tom wasn't sure if this was Braun's doing or just the wasteland's.  
>When they pushed open the door Tom had been expecting a bright light, something painful after being underground for god knew how long, but instead they found themselves entering the wasteland just before twilight. They ventured forward in a straight line towards DC, but it wasn't long before they knew they would need to stop and take shelter for the night.<br>They found an old deli next to the highway, with a long counter separating the eating area from the shelves and the kitchen. There were no doors and most of the windows were boarded up and at one point or another it seemed a fire had gone through, but the place was more or less what they needed.  
>"As long as there're two of us, one should keep watch," James muttered after they settled down in a corner of the diner.<br>"Get some rest, Dad, god knows how long you've been in that machine."  
>"Well let's see… I found the vault about three weeks after leaving 101. How soon after I left did you follow?"<br>"A couple of hours," Tom muttered  
>James looked at him, "<em>Hours<em>? Why Tom? I left you there for a reason; you were supposed to stay safe."  
>"Alphonse went off his nut, Dad. Jonas got beaten to death. If Amata hadn't woken me up I would've joined him, and you'd be stuck with Braun."<br>His father's voice lowered to a sombre tone, "Jonas is dead?"  
>Tom nodded.<br>James sighed, "How could I be so stupid. Of course he was going to take it out on everyone else… I'm so sorry Tom. I really thought you'd be safe."  
>"Don't worry about it," Tom muttered, "Anyway, if you found 112 three weeks after you left then you've been in there for at least a month… probably more. I would've found you sooner but-"<br>"It's a miracle you found me at all. To think… if it weren't for you, everything would have been for nothing."  
>"Did you find what you were looking for anyway, that G.E.C.K. thing?"<br>James frowned, "How did you know about that?"  
>"Same way I knew you were there: I found your notes at the Jefferson memorial."<br>James opened his mouth but Tom cut him off, "And I knew you had been there because I spoke to Doctor Li at Rivet City. I knew to speak to her because… you know what: why don't I just start at the beginning?"  
>And he did. Tom recounted his entire journey from the moment Amata woke him up to the moment he found himself in Tranquility Lane, omitting nothing. He mentioned creatures and James would nod his head and tell Tom the generally accepted term for the thing, such as the mirelurks or radscorpions. Aside from this he didn't say anything; he simply sat back and listened as Tom told him about pretending to threaten Amata at the vault door, about being shot in Springvale, about faking Silver's death in order to fool Moriarty, about Arefu, Burke and Tenpenny, about his journey to DC and his arrangement with Three Dog. It took hours, but Tom finally made it to the part of his journey where he finally found his father and then stopped, exhausted from talking and astounded that they had both managed to stay awake for it.<br>For a long time James didn't say anything. Then finally he said, with a strange but very subtle note in his voice, "I'm very proud of you. It sounds like you've done a lot of good, and I'm relieved that that town, Megaton, gets to stay standing. You're stronger than I gave your credit for… I would attribute that to your mother."  
>"Li told me a little about her… about the both of you actually."<br>"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth Tom… about your mother and I… and you. I just wanted you to have a shot at a safe, normal life. I thought you would have that in the vault."  
>Tom had so many things he felt like responding with… but none of them felt true at their base. He held his tongue, "It doesn't matter now. What matters is that we're in this together now and that one of us needs sleep."<br>"I've been asleep for over a month, apparently," James said, "I'll take first watch."  
>Tom picked up his rifle and passed it over to his father, whom looked at it with distaste and then placed it away from him.<br>Tom didn't notice this.  
>"Can I ask where you got the weapons?" James asked.<br>"Amata gave me the pistol: she stole it from her father's desk. I bought the rifle and I took the shotgun from a raider."  
>"A raider?"<br>"Yeah… he wasn't using it anymore."  
>This statement was followed by a silence.<br>"It was self-defence," Tom muttered.  
>James nodded, "I'm familiar with raiders and their… habits."<br>Another long silence. Tom felt like there was something his father was holding himself back from saying.  
>Finally James sighed and said, "Well you'd best get some rest. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours to take over."<br>Tom nodded, "Alright." He rolled over and closed his eyes. He was constantly aware through the night that his father, whom he'd been searching for months for, was sitting next to him, protecting and watching over him.

James let his son sleep through the night and didn't rouse him. He spent the night simply sitting with his back up against the wall and watching his son sleep, the son he had ignorantly left in the vault, thinking he would be safe. Now, because of him, his son was now constantly fighting for his life out in this wasteland and his only true friend in the vault had been murdered.  
>And now he was beginning to wonder what his son was becoming… beginning to wonder what the wasteland was doing to him…<p>

The sun rose the next morning and Tom stirred awake. He looked over to his father and saw that he was still sitting up against the wall.  
>"Hey, you didn't wake me up?"<br>James smiled, "Didn't I? I must've gotten caught up in my thoughts."  
>Tom stretched and heard several cracks as he stood up, "Let's eat something and get on our way. If we start now we can get some distance before the sun starts dehydrating us."<br>"That sounds wise," James muttered as he too stood and stretched. He picked up their packs and held it out to Tom, but he was walking away slowly.  
>"Can you hear that?" Tom asked. He walked slowly over to the entrance to the diner, pulling the pistol from his belt.<br>James picked the rifle up off the floor as he watched Tom inspect whatever he thought he heard.  
>Tom was standing in the entrance, just about to look out when suddenly something hit him with full force in the face. Tom was thrown off of his feet and he fell backwards onto his back, dropping the pistol.<br>James threw himself behind the counter and hunkered down as four raiders, one of them huge with scars all over his bare shoulders, stomped into the diner. One of them pulled Tom up by the neck, "Where's the other one?"  
>Tom thought quick, realising that they hadn't seen his father, "What other one?"<br>"You were talking to someone."  
>"In case you haven't noticed," Tom choked out as he was forced up against the wall by the neck, "It gets kind of lonely out here." He looked over at another raider and then looked back to the one holding him, "Or maybe you've uh… found some company."<br>It took a moment for the raider to get it, but when he did Tom ended up with a cut lip and a black eye.  
>The raider pulled Tom away from the wall and held him at arm's length, pulling a knife and placing it to Tom's throat. They were now parallel to the wall.<br>"I'm going to really like this," the raider smiled, "And so are my buddies."  
>James picked his moment and leapt to his feet, holding the rifle. He pulled the trigger and the raider's head was obliterated. Tom immediately followed up. He pushed the body aside and tackled the next raider behind it.<br>James turned the rifle to try and take out the big guy, but the rifle was yanked from his hands. He leapt over the counter and wrestled him over the rifle. Meanwhile Tom was being pulled off the other raider by the third. He threw his elbow back and caught him in the stomach. He turned in time to block an arm coming down with a knife and threw his forehead into the raider's nose, breaking. The raider cried out and Tom instinctively hit him the only way he could think to take him out fast: he sent his foot hard up in between the raider's legs. He turned in time to get hit hard in the face. He blocked another punch and then sent his own. The raider caught him and spun, throwing him across the room. He hit a cupboard door and moved forward to try again, but the raider sent a front kick into his chest. He was thrown back and crashed through the cupboard door in a cloud of dust.  
>James was thrown off of the other raider after putting up a good fight. He charged an approaching raider and they hit the wall hard. He punched him in the stomach a few times before the big one wrapped his arm around his throat and pulled him back. He managed to kick out and catch the other raider in the face.<br>The big one held James fast while the other two, bruised and bleeding took their anger out on James' body.  
>Tom dragged himself out of the cupboard, covered in dust, winded and clutching a broomstick with the broom itself snapped off.<br>He saw the raiders beating down on his father and something was set alight inside him. He lunged forward with the stick and buried it deep inside the back of one of the raider's legs.  
>He wrenched the stick from the raider and buried it in the stomach of the other as it turned around. He pressed forward and pushed the stick right through it. He let go as the raider stumbled back, choking.<br>The raider with the stabbed leg turned on him but he grabbed him by the head and slammed it down on the counter and let him slide to the ground. As he slid Tom pulled the pistol from his belt. He turned and saw the big raider holding his father.  
>"Let him go," Tom muttered.<br>"Drop the gun," he responded.  
>James made a choked noise that might've been, 'Shoot him.'<br>Tom and the raider locked eyes for a long moment. Finally Tom dropped the pistol.  
>The raider through James aside and charged forward, grabbing Tom by the throat and pushing him back over the counter.<br>Tom got a hand up to the raiders head and pulled him down as he threw his head forward, head-butting the raider. He braced himself against the bar and pushed the raider back with his feet.  
>He fell back and charged back just as hard, a knife now in his hand. Tom grabbed a glass bottle from the counter and swung it into the raider's face, shattering it. The raider let out a cry and swung around with the knife. Tom caught his wrist and shoved the shattered end of the bottle into the raider's throat. He pushed hard, driving him back until they hit the wall, burying the shards of glass even further in. Finally the raider stopped struggling and Tom let him fall to the ground.<br>James watched as Tom picked his pistol up from the floor and put a bullet between the eyes of the last breathing raider. Then he helped him to his feet, "That was a close one."  
>Tom wiped some blood away from his lip with his sleeve, "Let's salvage what we can and leave."<br>James nodded and watched as Tom rifled through the pockets of the now headless raider first. His son had definitely changed… and not for the better.  
>Soon he was going to need to tell him this.<p> 


	38. Chapter 37

37.

That day was spent in relative silence as they marched across the wasteland. They were able to avoid trouble and by the end of the day they had in fact crossed a third more terrain than Tom had thought they would. They hunkered down in a small cave for the night, making sure it was clear of any other creatures before settling down.  
>Once the sun was well and truly set they lit a fire, deep into the cave to hide the light.<br>After heating some freeze dried food over the small flames James finally spoke his mind.  
>"Tom… not that I'm unhappy with the fact that you've learned to look after yourself out here but… I'm a little concerned with your… lack of hesitation."<br>Tom looked up at him, "What do you mean 'lack of hesitation'? If I hesitate I die, it's that simple. When I left the vault, I was out ten minutes before nearly being killed."  
>"I understand that, son," James said, "And I don't blame you for having a less than sympathetic attitude to raiders but… it almost seems like once you decide that something's bad that it must be killed with extreme prejudice. In particular I'm thinking about Tenpenny Tower-"<br>"You think I shouldn't have taken out Burke and Tenpenny?" Tom asked incredulously.  
>"No, not at all. They were bad men… but you slaughtered everyone in that hotel. How sure are you that they were all evil, that they all deserved to die?"<br>"How could they not be," Tom asked, "They were living in luxury while the rest of the world suffered. They cared more about their beds than the starving people who deserved help. And, more than that, they supported a megalomaniac and dared to try and rationalise it."  
>"That's no reason to die," James muttered, "It's not that black and white out here, Tom. This whole place, the world itself, is a great big shade of grey. Nothing is as cut and dry as good and evil."<br>"I disagree," Tom said, "There is definitely evil and there is definitely good."  
>"Maybe so… but you haven't been out in the world long enough to always be able to tell the difference. You've given power to this Roy Phillips fellow, with no idea who he is or what he's done in the past. Who knows if he'll stop at Tenpenny Tower or if he'll try and take more places as his own. How do you know you haven't just traded one evil for another?"<br>Tom fell silent.  
>"Tom, there's no arguing that you have done great good out here… I'm just concerned. It's an overwhelming world out here and you've been thrown into it with no warning. I'm just trying to look out for you."<br>"Yeah well… maybe you should get some rest. I'll take watch tonight."  
>There was no more discussion after this. James sensed that he wasn't going to get much more out of him. He settled down for sleep and left Tom to sit against the cave wall, gripping his rifle and struggling with himself and the doubts that had now been planted in his heart about his actions. Had he really killed innocent people, fed them to ghouls? Was he out of control, a little too merciless with his enemies?<br>The night was filled with these thoughts and fears.

The next few days were fairly uneventful and they didn't speak much. They were making a beeline for DC and planned on changing direction after hitting the river.  
>On the eighth morning out of 112 they finally entered the ruins of DC, a sight that Tom was now all too familiar with. The buildings around them were not the towering ones of the inner city, but the suburban apartments and shops of the outskirts. They were far less menacing than the deep city monuments, but far more sombre.<br>They made their way down a slope and came across a sign made up of metal sheets bolted together. A poorly scrawled word was painted in white on it: Grayditch.  
>"We must have found a settlement," James muttered, looking around. They passed the sign and found themselves on a street with a small burned up park on the left. There were no sounds, no signs of life; just ash and smoke.<br>Suddenly a scream pierced the air and they both turned to the left. Over past the park was a burned out diner and on top of it was a small boy but they couldn't see why he was up there. Tom handed the rifle to his father and pulled the shotgun from his pack.  
>They jogged over, weapons ready. Soon they were close enough to see what had chased the boy onto the roof of the diner: giant ants, like the one outside Megaton. Tom had never seen a living one but he didn't think they could be that bad.<br>There were four of them, clicking furiously and snapping at the boy with their mandibles.  
>Tom and James raised their weapons and fired. The rifle injured one ant, the bullet passing through its side, however the shotgun had completely tattered the abdomen of another. The wounded ant and its two living companions turned, apparently agitated.<br>"RUN!" the boy screamed.  
>Tom and James both fired again. Two ants fell and the last looked down at its fallen counterparts.<br>"Don't worry kid," Tom said, "We've got this handled." He cocked the shotgun.  
>Just then the remaining ant turned back to him, opened its jaws wide and let out a huge ball of flame.<br>Tom cried out and fell back as James fired again, hitting the ant in the head. The stream of fire halted for a moment as the creature tried to recover. It turned to James and caught the next bullet right between the eyes. It crumpled to the ground as Tom checked his face and body for any burns. He'd been very lucky.  
>James was inspecting the ants closely.<br>The boy slid from the roof of the diner, "Are they dead?"  
>James looked up and nodded, "They're also very strange."<br>Tom got to his feet, "So it's not normal for giant ants to breathe fire? I wouldn't know, I haven't been out here long."  
>"No Tom," James said as he stood up straight, "It's not normal." He looked to the boy, "What's your name?"<br>"Bryan. Bryan Wilks."  
>"My name is James and this is my son, Tom. What's happening here Bryan? What are these creatures?"<br>"I don't know. Dad used to just call them 'fuckin' ants' but I just call them fire ants."  
>James and Tom exchanged a glance. Another boy looking for his father. "And where is your father now?"<br>"I don't know. They attacked our house and he told me to run but I got caught out here. Please can you see if he's okay?"  
>"Where's your house?" Tom asked.<br>The boy pointed. Just down the street from the diner was an apartment building with smoke coming out of the windows: not a promising sign.  
>"We'll check it out. Is there anywhere you can hide?"<br>"Yeah, there's a person shelter just over here." Bryan walked around the corner and Tom and James followed. Around the corner, next to the diner, was a tall, cylindrical booth. A sliding door was set into it, and above were the words 'Pulowski Preservation Shelter'.  
>Bryan pressed a button on the outside and the door slid aside. He turned to Tom and James, "I'll wait here for you guys. It'll be safe." He stepped in and the door slid closed.<br>Tom and James made their way down the street, weapons ready and ears pricked for any sound of scurrying. They passed a small shack, obviously built after the way with wooden boards and sheets of metal before finding themselves standing before the front door of Bryan's home.  
>After a moment they kicked the door in, weapons up and they quickly cleared the hallway that they stepped into.<br>Dead ants lay all over the place and an awful acrid stink choked the air, along with the smoke. They soon found the source of it in the next room over. A huge pile of rubble sat in the middle of the living room and was wreathed in flame. Lying face down by the bonfire was the body of a man.  
>Tom's heart sank as James leaned down and rolled the body over. His front was grotesque and burnt. If the skin wasn't black then it was a raw red. Whatever face he had once had was now gone. Tom had to look away as James peeled the remaining shirt away from the body and search the pockets. He found only a single key. "Too big to be for a safe… might be for that shack next door."<br>"Right," Tom muttered, still having trouble looking at the seared body, "I'm going to check out the rest of the place."  
>They cleared the house and found nothing else of use. They took a blanket from a bed and used it to smother the flames in the living room and then covered up Bryan's father with a sheet.<br>Once they were standing back on the street Tom turned to his father, "How are we going to tell that kid what's happened?"  
>"I don't know… but we may have more pressing matters at hand. I have never heard of fire-breathing ants and the only conclusion that I can draw is that they are not a natural mutation per se. I want to have a look at this shack." He drew the key and it fit the lock perfectly. They stepped in and found themselves in a dingy room with a some tables up against the left wall, a computer and a desk in the corner with a generator sitting next to it, some kind of station for something in the right corner, a shelf on the right wall and a mattress on the floor.<br>"That's for a protectron," James said, pointing at the station in the right corner, "I wonder where it is."  
>Tom looked to his father, "Protectron?"<br>"Do you remember the robot outside of Megaton? Deputy Weld?"  
>Tom nodded.<br>"He's a Protectron."  
>"Right. What is this place?"<br>James glanced at the beakers and experimental equipment on the tables, "I'd say it was a laboratory… abandoned now, but only in the last few weeks." He stepped over to the tables and picked up a holodisk and slipped it into his own Pip-Boy. After a moment it began playing over the small speakers on the wrist-bound computer.  
>It was a male voice, somewhat nasally and annoying and certainly old, "<em>This could be the fifth time I've forgotten the code to my desktop terminal. I really must learn to be more organized. The password for my terminal is 'formicidae.' How hard could that be for me to remember? Note to self: destroy this holotape as soon as move to new lab is complete.<em>"  
>"Evidently he forgot," James said as the holodisk clicked to end. He ejected it and dropped it back on the desk. He sat at the computer terminal and used the password to access the files.<br>"Anything useful on there?"  
>"Yes," James muttered, "Apparently this particular terminal belonged to a Doctor Lesko and he was experimenting with some kind of formula. It seems he's moved his experiments down into the Marigold Station. Apparently he was trying to restore some creature back to its normal size through genetic recoding."<br>"The ants?"  
>"Perhaps. There's only one way to be sure though."<br>Tom groaned, "We're going underground aren't we?"  
>James nodded, "Not a fan of the train tunnels?"<br>"Are you?"  
>James smiled, "I suppose not. But I want to meet this Doctor Lesko and find out just what's going on… and if he knows just what effect it has had on the surface."<br>"Well before we do anything like that we need to figure out what to do with Bryan."

They returned to Bryan and told him what they had found in his home.  
>The boy just looked down at his feet, "I'm too tired to cry."<br>"We'll stop whatever started this, Bryan," James said.  
>"Good. You have to. This can't happen to anyone else's family."<br>"Is there somewhere you can go? Do you have any other family?"  
>"Papa used to talk about a cousin Vera. Apparently she lives in Rivet City."<br>James put his hand on Bryan's shoulder, "When we've fixed things here we'll take you to her. Until then you need to find somewhere safe to be. Thomas and I need to go into the train tunnels. Will you be okay?"  
>The boy nodded, "Be careful. These ones," he nodded his head at the dead ants, "They're only the little ones. There're bigger ones that I've seen. And the station is over there," he pointed at the street that Tom and James had arrived on, "Just down that road on the right."<br>James thanked him and they left the boy buy the Preservation Shelter.  
>Soon they were standing in front of the chain link gate that led down into the depths of the station. They'd encountered a few more ants but now they knew to keep a distance and take their shots quickly.<br>Tom and James exchanged a look and then they stepped into the darkness.


	39. Chapter 38

38.

They switched the flashlights of their Pip-Boys on as soon as they stepped into the foyer of the station. The place was littered with small fires and burn marks. In fact the entire place stunk of smoke. They started forward carefully, doing their best not to make a noise.  
>They reached the entry way into the platform area and then froze, hearing something.<br>Clicking.  
>Suddenly they both looked up to see an ant, far bigger than the others and with more spikes on the carapace, clicking furiously on the ceiling. Tom and James both leapt forward at the same time as the ant spewed out a stream of flame, rolling. Tom came up first and fired the shot gun up at the ant and it screeched and fell, landing on its back. It lay there a moment, twitching, black goo oozing from its wound, before Tom lifted a large rock and brought it down hard on its head, killing it off.<br>"Ugly fucking things, aren't they?"  
>James nodded, "Not very charming. Watch your language Tom."<br>Tom looked up at his father, eyebrows raised, "Really? Who am I going to offend out here?"  
>James ignored the question and they both made their way deeper into the tunnels, encountering several more ants, all of them larger than the ones outside.<br>After winding through the tunnels, turning away from dead ends and getting trapped in rooms with furious clicking ants.  
>Finally though, with their sleeves singed and their guns smoking they found a door that with a live terminal outside of it.<br>James tapped into the computer and after a moment of hitting keys the door unlocked and rolled open.  
>Tom looked at his father, "That was quick?"<br>"Once you know how to hack it gets a lot easier."  
>"You'll have to show me how to friggin' do that."<br>They stepped through the open door and into what was clearly an improvised laboratory, with papers strewn about, phials and beakers up on tables and a computer in one corner.  
>A man in a lab coat with a blonde comb-over, thick glasses and a small second chin walked in through a door on the other side of the room, saw them and let out a less than manly scream. Tom and James, whom had been looking at some of the equipment with their backs to the door hadn't seen him enter and jumped with fright of their own at the scream.<br>"Oh my goodness! You startled me. You really mustn't creep up on people like that."  
>Tom and James, whom had drawn their guns at their own surprise, looked at him incredulously.<br>"Startle you?" Tom said, "You just had us jumping out of our skin."  
>James put a hand on Tom's shoulder and they lowered their weapons, "Are you Doctor Lesko?"<br>The man started bustling around the room, checking readings, chemicals and papers, "Yes I am. Do you realise you're trampling about in a delicately balanced and highly sensitive experimentation area?"  
>"You don't find this to be a poor substitute for a laboratory," James asked, looking around at the damp walls and mouldy tables.<br>"A temporary retreat. But what are you doing here? Who are you people?"  
>"We were passing through and we couldn't help but notice that the town above is in ruin and covered in giant ants. We found a boy, Bryan Wilks, and he told us what's been going on, that these creatures have appeared and that they destroyed Grayditch," James stepped forward, "And then we found your old lab, some of your notes and we got a little info on where you'd be… so here we are. What exactly are you doing down here?"<br>"I'm doing work with the ants: I intend to generationally reduce their immense stature by way of a pre-birth induced mutagen. Isn't that clever?" he seemed very pleased with his idea.  
>James looked over to Tom, "He's injecting the eggs with a formula to make them smaller."<br>Tom looked over at Lesko, "So… are you aware that your new ants breathe fire?"  
>Lesko fidgeted uncomfortably, "Well… this is a little embarrassing so you'll have to forgive me. It appears that I've made a slight miscalculation in my mutagen samples. The brood hatched and developed a bio-mechanism; I call it pyrosis. If I could get near my equipment I'd be able to correct his error."<br>James stepped forward, "Doctor Lesko I'm shocked that you didn't attempt this in a controlled environment first."  
>Lesko looked at his shoes a moment, clearly embarrassed by his mistake, "Perhaps I was a little too hasty in directly modifying an entire brood, but I was certain it would work."<br>"Where's your work station?"  
>"It's set up in the hatchery chamber near the ant queen. If I can reach it I can correct my error. Be we can't kill the queen. If she were harmed in any way, months of data would be lost. Your objective would be to eliminate her Nest Guardians."<br>Tom interrupted, "Woah, hang on when did we get given an objective? Did I miss something?"  
>"If we don't help then nothing will get done," James muttered. "How many Guardians does she have?"<br>"Five."  
>"And how will getting to your work station help the situation?"<br>"I've rigged the equipment to emit what I call an inhibitor pulse. Once I send this pulse, all of the remaining ants will lose their empathic link with the queen and frenzy, destroying each other in the process."  
>"So if they're not connected to the queen the other ants will go nuts," Tom asked.<br>"In layman's terms, yes."  
>"Then I guess we need to get a move on," Tom said, "Where's this hatchery?"<br>Lesko pointed at the door he walked in through, "The cavern is just out there. But please don't harm the queen. Science is at stake here."  
>Tom and James walked past him and stepped out into the tunnel. They could clearly see where the cavern began. The train tracks fell away into a hole that went almost straight down. There was definitely a sense of foreboding as Tom and James approached the opening.<br>"We're not really going to leave a giant ant monster queen alive are we?" Tom asked.  
>"Not a chance," James said and they started their way down into the caverns, sliding down the slope until they hit the bottom.<br>As they moved through the darkness, their flashlights still on, Tom said, "I'm thinking we should go with the policy, 'shoot first and ask questions later'… what do you think."  
>"I think-" suddenly James was cut off as a huge shape landed in front of them and the Nest Guardian spewed out a stream of flame. James and Tom threw themselves aside. James dived behind a boulder and then laid the rifle on it, taking aim. Tom was crawling as fast as he could but the creature turned to him. It was clearly getting ready to attack but James took the shot and their left antenna was blown off. The creature screamed and turned around to find its attacker. Tom took his chance and fired at the creatures head and the shot gun took most of its head off. It collapsed but there wasn't any time to relax. They could already hear another one screeching and clicking as it made its way towards them from down the tunnel. Tom and James ran over to the entryway of the next tunnel and stood on either side as still as they could, weapons at the ready.<br>Another Guardian stepped through, just as large and terrifying as the other. Tom and James wasted no time. James put five bullets into it and Tom used three rounds. Soon the creature was missing four legs, one of its mandibles and was leaking fluid onto the stony ground from its wounds.  
>Tom and James reloaded, keeping their ears pricked for the sound of another Guardian and then continued on down the cavern. As they walked they passed the corpse of a Guardian, covered in burns.<br>"It looks like it was attacked with some kind of energy weapon," James said, "maybe a laser pistol."  
>As they got further down they passed a smashed up protectron, explaining the laser burned Guardian and the empty chamber in Lesko's old shack. The further down the tunnel they went the more they could start to hear a rumbling sound.<br>They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with the last two guardians.  
>There wasn't time to plan, James just shouted, "Shoot at the antennae!" and they fired.<br>They let off several rounds before the ants both let out a stream of flame. They threw themselves against opposite walls. Tom squeezed himself as hard against the wall as he could, his arms, squinting against the intense heat. He lifted the shotgun, still up against the wall, and fired off another round.  
>He got lucky. The ant he hit screeched, its antennae blown away, and turned to its comrade and fastened its jaws around its throat. The two got into a fight, biting and tearing at each other, throwing each other around the cavern. Tom and James moved and jumped out of the way as the creatures rolled around the tunnel, tearing legs away and clicking furiously.<br>Finally one threw the other down, missing a few eyes, legs and antennae of its own. It was barely able to hold its own weight on its remaining legs. Tom and James watched it collapse and die as its insides spilled out from the wound in its abdomen.  
>"Well," Tom muttered, "That was brutal."<br>"Fascinating," James agreed, "But we've got things other than giant ant wrestling to worry about." Just then a growl ripped through the entire cavern.  
>"Mum's not very happy," Tom muttered.<br>They moved past the dead creatures and into what they now realised was the hatchery.  
>Standing in front of the wall lined with eggs was what could only be the queen: it was huge, with a swollen abdomen and long white wings. Its jaws were long and dangerous looking and its black eyes were furious.<br>"This one doesn't breathe fire, does it?" Tom asked as they cocked their weapons.  
>"No it wasn't given the mutagen," James said.<br>The creature seemed to be preparing to do something. Suddenly it opened its mouth wide and seemed to spew a liquid out at them. Tom leapt to his left and James to his right and the substance splashed against the wall and began hissing. Tom stared as it ate away at the wall.  
>"Acid!" he shouted, "Acid, well that's just great. This is much better than fire!" He got to his feet and purely out of frustration shot the creature in the head. It growled and locked eyes with him.<br>"Hey Dad," Tom said, "It looks like I'll be distracting this thing so why don't you go for the computer while I try not to die." He cocked the shotgun.  
>The creature let out another roar and charged forward. Tom backed into an alcove to his left rapidly and fired off another round which did nothing but make the Queen angrier. Tom's back hit the wall and he scrambled vertically to get out of the way as the creature went to bite. He put his foot on its face and pushed himself up and out of the way. He couldn't get the gun around to fire off another round and the creature pushed him further up the wall. He slammed his foot down on its eye and swore at it, "Fuck off, you fucking, black eyed, mother-"<br>Meanwhile James was fiddling with the computer trying to hack his way into it. This lock was much tougher than the one on Lesko's door and it seems Lesko had forgotten his password again. "Hang in there son!" he shouted, "I'm getting there."  
>"I'm not going anywhere!" Tom shouted.<br>The Queen opened its mouth wide and Tom knew it was about to projectile vomit some acid. He leaned forward and jumped, landing behind the creatures head just as it threw up acid onto the wall.  
>Tom lifted his gun high and started slamming the butt of it into the creatures head before flipping it around and getting ready to shoot it between the eyes.<br>Suddenly the creature slammed itself against one wall. Tom was hit hard and was momentarily dazed.  
>"Jesus."<br>The creature then threw itself against the other wall and he dropped the gun.  
>"Fuck."<br>Finally the ant queen bucked. Tom was tossed up and then as he came down the ant came back up and he was almost knocked unconscious by the force of it. He gripped the antennae for dear life as the creature pulled out of the alcove and back out into the hatchery cavern.  
>James turned and saw his sun going rodeo on the ant queen and couldn't help but think to himself, <em>Well that's one way to distract it.<em>  
>He also saw that Tom wasn't armed and got down on one knee, pulling a long hunting knife from his boot. He didn't want to risk Tom fumbling the rifle and shooting himself.<br>"Tom!" he shouted.  
>Tom looked up from holding on for dear life and saw James getting ready to throw something to him. He sat up a bit more straight and his father threw a hunting knife his way. He reached out, praying that his fingers would find the handle and not the blade. He got lucky and held the knife in a fist, blade down while the ant continued to twist and turn, trying to get at him. It had begun to furiously beat its wings now, which was making things even more difficult, but Tom managed to bring the knife down hard into the creature's neck. It shrieked and bucked again and this time Tom's shoulder collided with the handle of the knife. Tom let out a cry of pain.<br>"That's it! I'm sick of this game!"  
>Holding onto the knife with one hand he pulled his backpack around to his front and rooted around, pulling out the pistol. He tucked it into his pants and then found what he had hoped would still be there: two grenades. He had thought he'd used them all, but at some point he must have just randomly salvaged some and put them away.<br>He tossed the backpack to his father who caught it and tucked the grenades into his pants, pulling the pistol. He fired several times into the creature, a few times into the head and then some into the abdomen. He threw the gun aside as the creature screeched and bucked even harder, moving further away from the computer and James, as Tom had hoped. He spread his arms, a grenade in each hand, pulled the pins with his thumbs and then dropped the grenades, hearing them bounce beneath the creature.  
>Then it somehow shrugged Tom off of its back and he ended up hanging by the antennae in front of its face. He stared into its eyes, nothing but fear in his mind and heart for a split second, waiting for it to close its jaws.<br>Just in time the grenades exploded from beneath and the Queen was torn apart by the explosions. Tom and the head of the queen were thrown away from the explosion and crashed against the wall. The knife landed just between Tom's legs.  
>The sound of the explosion rocked through the caverns and for a long time Tom didn't move.<br>Finally James ran over and fell at his side, "Are you alright? Tom!"  
>Tom looked around at his father and said, "I think I need a break from all this wasteland wandering stuff."<br>A smile broke out on James' face and they laughed as he hugged him and helped him up. Tom pulled the knife out of the ground as James pulled a flask from his pocket.  
>"Yeah if I had a bit of scotch on me I'd be taking a swig now too," Tom said.<br>James smiled, "It's empty. I'm collecting something." He pulled one of the queen's antennae from its head and squeezed it, holding the opening over the flask. A green liquid dripped into the flask. He repeated this task with the other antennae. When he was finished the flask was about half full.  
>"What is that stuff?" Tom asked.<br>"Ant pheromone," James said, "Very powerful stuff."  
>"Why do we need it?"<br>"I want it for two reasons. One is that it could come in useful at some point… the other is that I don't feel good about someone as… 'hasty' as Lesko getting his hands on such a powerful chemical."  
>Tom nodded, "Fair enough." He looked at the blown apart creature. "Think he'll be mad that we broke his queen?"<br>"I could care less. He couldn't control it and he didn't know how to stop himself from tampering with it. I assure you his next thought would've been to somehow inject the queen herself."  
>"I guess we were in the nick of time then."<br>They collected up their things and made their way back up to the laboratory. As they walked Tom asked, "Do I still have both my eyebrows?"  
>James laughed.<p>

Lesko was waiting for them when they got back, "I've detected some changes in the Queen's hatchery with my equipment. What's transpired?"  
>"The Queen is dead," James said.<br>"How could you do such a thing?" Lesko cried, "I needed her alive to conduct my experiments!"  
>"It was for the greater good," James answered, "We couldn't let you risk anymore lives for an experiment."<br>"You buffoons, you ignorant little people. You've set my work back months… maybe even years!"  
>"You ruined Brian Wilks' life!" Tom responded, "You destroyed an entire town."<br>"If you'd done the experiment properly none of that would have happened," James said, "You were reckless and arrogant and it cost lives."  
>"You have your ideals," Lesko said, "And I have mine. I'm down here to complete my experiments at any cost. If that means the loss of a few lives to save generations later, it's a small price to pay."<br>James was speechless. Finally, after a moment, he said, "We'll leave you to your insects," and stormed out.  
>Tom remained a moment.<br>"And what brilliant insight do you have to offer, boy," Lesko muttered sarcastically.  
>Tom stepped forward, "No insight. My father believes in finding a peaceful solution, he's a very smart man and he's never let his science hurt anyone. I'm a different kind of guy." He got up very close to Lesko, "If I ever hear of your experiments hurting people again, I will come back… and I will stop you properly."<br>"How dare you threaten-" Lesko sputtered but stopped when Tom pressed the barrel of his pistol to his throat.  
>"I mean it Lesko. Don't hurt anyone else. Find the peaceful way."<br>"Is _this _the peaceful way?" Lesko asked.  
>"I fear in your case it's the only way."<br>"Thomas, come on. We need to find Bryan." James' voice echoed back down the tunnel.  
>Tom put the pistol away, "This is your chance to change Lesko. Don't hurt anyone else."<p>

They stepped back out into the sunlight and James turned to Tom, "What were you saying to Lesko anyway?"  
>"I was telling him he should be more like you: smart and safe doesn't mean ineffective. He seemed to take it in a little."<br>"I'd be surprised if he was," James muttered, "He is the absolute worst kind of scientist," now he was starting to sound furious and his pace was quickening, "letting his arrogance and ambition get in the way of actually helping anyone. It's disgusting. I hope his mistakes destroy him one day."  
>"They just might," Tom muttered.<br>As they walked they passed several dead ants, all of them either torn apart or burnt up. It was an eerie sight.  
>"Well it certainly worked," Tom muttered, "I just hope Bryan's alright."<br>Bryan was sitting on top of the diner again, but he seemed much more at ease than before. They walked up to him and he slid down from it, "It was so weird. All of a sudden the ants went nuts and started attacking each other. It was scary… but kind of cool."  
>"We killed the Queen," James said, "They can never hurt anyone else again."<br>Bryan sighed with relief, "That's good. Everyone can be safer now… well… saf_er_."

Tom and James helped Bryan bury his father, far away from any fire, along with some of his personal belongings.  
>Bryan said his goodbyes, "They're gone Dad. We've got some friends… they got the 'fuckin' ants'. I'm safe now."<br>Afterwards they started their way through Grayditch. They passed a small children's park with a chain link fence. An ant lay against the fence. Tom was the one closest to it as they passed.  
>"These things were pretty brutal when they got their jaws around each other," Tom muttered.<br>Suddenly the 'dead' ant they were passing reared up and attacked Tom. It locked its mandibles around Tom's middle and threw him against the fence. Tom cried out as its teeth pierced his body. James cried out and the next thing Tom knew the creature was letting him go and he collapsed on the ground. He didn't see but he heard the ant screech and die. Then his father was cradling him.  
>"Tom, Tom! It's okay. I'm here, it's dead. We've got you!"<br>Tom could feel himself starting to fade, unable to stay awake, "Dad… something's happening… poison…"  
>"No, Tom. NO!"<br>Then his eyes closed and it all faded away.


	40. Chapter 39

39. 

Tom's eyes flickered open and the light above him was a little blinding. He squinted and groaned and he immediately felt a warm, rough hand around his.  
>"Tom, how do you feel?"<br>Tom turned his head and saw his father, looking extremely tired, sitting in a chair next to his bed.  
>Tom opened his mouth, which felt very dry and coughed, "Very tired and very stiff. What happened?"<br>"One of the ants wasn't quite dead yet. It bit you and you passed out. Evidently there was some kind of toxin in the bite. Once we got you here it was fairly simple purging your system of the toxin."  
>"So, hang on wait… how long have I been out and where exactly is 'here'?"<br>"You were bitten two days ago and we're in Rivet City. Can you walk?"  
>Tom pushed the sheets of the bed back and found that while he was wearing pants, his torso, now virtually devoid of any of its old Vault-supported paunch, was wrapped in bandages. As he sat up he said, "So how deep did the bite go?"<br>"Not that deep. The poison did the most damage, although you do have about a dozen stitches. Try not to get into any serious altercations."  
>Tom laughed, "No fighting more than two raiders at a time?"<br>"Something like that."  
>Tom stood up and while his muscles were stiff and sore, particularly around his torso, the pain itself was minimal.<br>"Think you could come with me to meet Doctor Li?" James asked.  
>Tom looked up, "You didn't wait long to ask that did you."<br>"I know and I wish I could give you more time to recuperate, but time is a factor," James said, "We need to tell Li what we've discovered so that we can get Project Purity up and running."  
>"Okay," Tom said, nodding, "Yeah, just find me a shirt and we'll go see her."<br>James nodded and left the room.  
>Tom took a look around. It wasn't a clinic or anything. Too domestic.<br>Someone stepped into the doorway and spoke, "Welcome to the Weatherly Hotel."  
>Tom looked around and a tall woman with short blonde hair was looking over at him.<br>"Uh, hi. Thank you."  
>The woman smiled, "I'm Bryan Wilks' cousin, Vera. I just wanted to get a look in at the other half of the duo that saved the little guy."<br>"I hope Dad didn't talk me up to you. I'd hate to disappoint."  
>"Actually he didn't say much at all. He just sat there and watched over you… I don't think he even slept from what I saw. You've got a hell of a father there."<br>Tom nodded, "He's certainly something."  
>Suddenly Bryan poked his head around Vera and waved at Tom, "Are you okay?"<br>"Yeah," he looked down at the bandage around his waist and then back up at Bryan, a smile on his face, "Fuckin' ants."

James eventually returned with a shirt for Tom to wear. The both of them had now discarded their old vault suits. It felt strange to Tom to not be wearing the jumpsuit… strange but not necessarily bad.  
>They made their way down to the science lab where Li was discussing something with one of her scientists.<br>James announced his presence by saying loudly, "I told you it would work, Madison. Now I can prove it."  
>Li turned and her jaw dropped as she saw the father and son walk through her lab, "James… you're back."<br>"And with good news. I was right about Braun and the G.E.C.K. If we can find one we can adapt it to work with the purifier."  
>People were beginning to look at them and Li motioned for them to follow her. She led them into her office. After closing the door she turned and said, "I'd like to believe you James, I really would. This all just so… so sudden. I didn't expect to see either of you to make it back, let alone both of you at the same time with <em>useful<em> data."  
>"Madison, I'm telling you this is real. I talked to Braun himself and he confirmed it. Don't you see: this is what we've been waiting for."<br>"I don't know James… so many years have passed. Is it really still worth a try?"  
>Tom stepped forward, "I don't mean to interrupt or anything but, Doctor Li, how could it not be worth improving the lives of the wasteland."<br>"Exactly," James said, "What could possibly be a more worthy endeavour."  
>Li grimaced, "It seems neither of you have lost your passion or stubbornness."<br>"It's as important as ever, Madison, for us to stick by our convictions. I know it's important to you too. Let's finish it… together."  
>Li sighed, "We don't have a G.E.C.K. James. I can get a small team together but we'll need proof that it works before people believe us."<br>"I know and I've been thinking about that. The lab at the facility had some old pre-war computers that weren't too damaged. Some of them might be useful."  
>"There's no power there. Even if one of those computers had a database we couldn't access it."<br>"That's why we're going to head over there right now and get things up and running as best we can."  
>There was a long silent moment as James stared imploringly into Li's eyes and she stared sceptically back.<br>Finally she sighed, "You know, if it were anyone else asking me to do this, I'd have them run right out of Rivet City."  
>"And you know I wouldn't be here if I didn't think this would really work. It's time Madison."<br>A shorter moment of silence before Li laughed nervously, "Damn you James… when this if all over you owe me a drink. I'll get the team together."  
>"Thank you Madison, it's going to be great working with you again."<p>

Not long after Tom, James and Li set out from Rivet City, leading a group of ten others along the shoreline and towards the memorial. Tom kept his pistol on them, but the area was relatively clear at the moment. Within an hour they had made it to the memorial and were walking through abandoned laboratory. The bodies of the super mutants were rotting and stunk to high heavens, but this evidently had kept further intruders out of the building. After checking the building thoroughly they determined that it was clear and they made their way up to the rotunda.  
>James and Li both looked around at all the equipment and Li seemed to relax a little, "I forgot how magnificent all of this work was."<br>"I've sent Garza to bring the power back. It should be back up in a couple of hours."  
>"Good. Well there's a lot of work to do here, we might as well get started." Li started making notes on her clipboard as she circled the equipment.<br>James turned to Tom, "Just you wait. In a few weeks this whole place should be back up and running. I can feel something coming, Tom, something incredible. We're on a good road."  
>Tom smiled as his father spoke with an excitement and energy that he'd never seen before.<br>James, however, seemed to notice something different in his son, "What's wrong?"  
>"Nothing," Tom said, "I'm just very tired. I was thinking about heading back to the ship and getting a bit of rest."<br>James nodded, "Alright then. But before you do I want to show you something. Follow me."  
>James led Tom out of the rotunda and into the lower basement. The basement was full of metal walkways, turbines and sleeping quarters. Some of the others had already come down and begun cleaning up. James led Tom down a set of stairs and through the basement until they came upon a room with tall beds, IV stands and plastic curtains. It was clearly a clinic.<br>The moment Tom stepped in he felt a strange sadness. "Why are we down here."  
>"This is where you were born, Tom. This is where…"<br>"Where she died," Tom finished.  
>James fell silent and nodded.<br>"Why are you showing me this?" Tom asked. His chest was feeling very constricted and his breathing was starting to hitch ever so slightly.  
>"Because I think we were meant to come back, Tom. You and me, I think we were meant to come back and finish her life's work. Do you remember her favourite passage?"<br>Tom recited it perfectly, "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely."  
>"This is what it all means," James said, "This is where it all began: The water and the purifier. <em>This <em>is the water of life: your mother's dream."  
>"This is why you left."<br>James nodded, "I felt that leaving this all incomplete would be a disgrace to her memory."  
>"I can't help but ask why you thought that it was any less a disgrace to leave me behind?"<br>James flinched, "I realise now that not only was that a mistake… it was also grievously wrong. It's your right just as much as mine to be here, bringing this dream back to the world. When they were stitching you up I saw the rest of your scars, the bullet wounds and the cuts and the full realisation of what you must've gone through to find me hit me." He turned to his son, "Tom… I'm so sorry for not treating you like you deserved… for not treating you like a man."  
>Tom looked at his father and they embraced and small silent tears dropped from both of their eyes. Finally they parted and the air was clearer than before.<br>"Go get some rest. I'm going to need your help, son. We're going to rebuild this place together. For her."  
>Tom smiled, "For us."<p>

Tom returned to Rivet City and spent the next few days recovering, doing very little aside from walking around and talking with the locals. He got to know many of them very well, and even lent a hand with a few things, slowly doing more and more as he healed up. Once the stitches were out he was doing more and more around, visiting the memorial to help with the maintenance and doing odd jobs for the residents of Rivet City in exchange for some caps.  
>Then one morning Tom was sitting in his room, leafing through an old book and with Galaxy News on in the background.<br>"_Here's a question for all you faithful listeners: have you guys and gals ever seen… a tree? No, no! Not those shrivelled black things. I'm talking real tree: brown bark, green leaves, photosynthesis; all that good stuff! Well what if I, the all-powerful Three Dog, bow-wow-wow, were to tell you that somewhere right here in the Capital Wasteland is a place with lots of trees?_"_  
><em>Tom looked up, wondering where Three Dog was going with this.  
>"<em>A veritable oasis of green in that depressing sea of brown? Look, it was years ago and I <em>may _have been experimenting with Jet at the time… but I'm telling you, it's out there._"  
>Tom raised his eyebrows and then forgot the whole message as Three Dog thanked his listeners, howled and then left them all with a slow duet song by a man and a woman, with a piano playing.<br>"_Into each life, some rain must fall, but too much is falling in mine…_"  
>A few moments later someone knocked on Tom's door and he called out for them to come in.<br>One of the Rivet City security personnel stepped in, "You father just contacted us on the radio. He wants to talk with you about something."  
>Tom nodded, "Alright, thanks." He put the book away and grabbed his bag.<p> 


	41. Chapter 40

40.

Project Purity was a hive of activity with scientists and mechanics running around, tightening things and sparking things and in some cases hitting things.  
>James was up in the rotunda and this was where Tom found him.<br>"Dad!?" he called over the noise.  
>James turned, smiled and came down the stairs to meet his son, "Thank you for coming Tom."<br>"What's up?"  
>"Come with me."<p>

James wiped the sweat from his forehead with a piece of cloth that he tucked back away in his lab coat. He closed the door of his adopted office and turned to his son, "I have a job for you."  
>"I assume it isn't as simple as fixing a fuse or turning off a flood pump, otherwise you would've just asked me out there. What's the catch?"<br>"It may require… some travelling."  
>Tom grimaced, "Where to?"<br>"Did you hear Three Dog on the radio about an hour ago?"  
>"I was half tuned in, so to speak."<br>"Do you remember what he was talking about?"  
>"Yeah he mentioned tripping out on drugs and finding trees or something."<br>"He called it an oasis, and he swore it was real. I want you to find out what he knows and if you have enough to go on… I would like you to try and find the place he was speaking of."  
>Tom frowned, "Dad… I can't help but ask if you've been on the scotch again."<br>"Tom-"  
>"It's a wild goose chase," Tom continued, "He said it himself, he was on drugs when he found the place. He probably found a patch of those glowing green fungus things and thought it was a forest. Don't you think of a place like that really existed, <em>somebody else <em>would have found it."  
>"I only said to go looking for it if he gave you anything helpful in the way of information."<br>"Why the sudden interest in a radio hosts ramblings?"  
>"Tom… if this place exists, can you imagine the significance of that to our work here. What if someone has a piece of the puzzle that we haven't even thought of?"<br>Tom understood what his father was getting at. What if there was a faster way?  
>"Alright," he sighed, "I'll pay a visit to GNR and ask Three Dog what else he might remember. If he gives me a little more than a direction to go on, I'll go have a look. But I hope you realise that I'm going to miss the wedding."<br>"I'll apologise to Angela and Stanley for you," James said with a smile.

Later that day Tom was making his way up the stairs of Galaxy News Radio. At the top where all of the radio broadcasting equipment was stood Three Dog, flipping through some records while some song about a guy named 'Butcher Pete' played. He looked up when Tom stepped onto the landing.  
>"Well I'll be. The vault dweller returns." He strode over, smiling wide and they shook hands warmly. "How're you doing Tom? I heard that a certain Doctor James Williams was resurrecting a long-forgotten project that was going to save the capital wasteland. I suppose you found your daddy then."<p>

Tom nodded, "Went to hell and back to get him, but yeah."  
>"I'm glad to hear it. What can I do for you on this fine day?"<br>"I wanted to ask you something about a story you told on the show today?"  
>Three Dog frowned quizzically, "I tell a lot of stories kid. Which one in particular caught your ears?"<br>"Green trees," Tom said.  
>Three Dog's frown disappeared and he nodded with sudden understanding, "I see. Well I told pretty much everything I remember on the radio. Lots of green trees in a place I don't remember while I was on jet."<br>"So you don't have anything that could maybe help me find this place?" Tom was hoping Three Dog would agree and send him on his way.  
>"I told all I remember, not all that I <em>know<em>."  
>Tom's heart fell. <em>Dammit.<br>_"A little while ago," Three Dog turned and made his way to his office, "I came into possession of a very important document… the kind that could be put to improper use in the wrong hands."  
>As he walked Tom followed. He started rummaging through his office until he found what he was looking for: a rolled up piece of paper. He handed it over to Tom, whom unfurled it and looked.<br>He quickly realised that it was a map of the capitol wasteland… but something was marked on it.  
>"Are you trying to tell me you just happened to have a map to this place just lying around?" Tom asked sceptically.<br>"I understand your doubt, but trust me when I say that how this map happened to fall in my hands is not a short or pleasant story. Suffice it to say someone thought I might know someone who could do some good with it and up until now I couldn't think of anyone. You refreshed my memory. If you want to find this place, then I trust your motivations. That map is yours."  
>Tom smiled, "Thank you. It looks like a very long way."<br>"Right at the top of the capital wasteland, in fact. By my estimations it might take you up to three or four weeks to get there. Up for the walk?"  
>Tom grinned, "I've done a lot of walking. Pretty sure I'm up to it."<p>

Tom returned to Rivet City and visited Flak and Shrapnel, the local gun traders. He stocked up on ammunition, a couple of grenades and a long hunting knife. He also stocked up on some other supplies and then left, nodding to the Rivet City Security as he stepped onto the bridge.  
>He dropped by Project Purity on his way out of DC.<br>"Conveniently enough," he said to James, "he just happened to have a map lying around that would get me there."  
>"What an unlikely turn of events," James said, "Well I suppose you've got a little adventure ahead of you."<br>"I might be gone for six weeks, at _least_," Tom said, "I wouldn't call that little."  
>"By the time you get back we'll almost be ready to go to the next stage," James said, "It's all happening so quickly."<br>Tom smiled, "Well I better get going then. Wish me luck."  
>Suddenly James leaned in and embraced his son tightly, "Good luck. Oh wait," he pulled back and pulled his knife from his boot and held it out to Tom, "Take this."<br>Tom pulled the much larger hunting knife from his bag and held it up to his father's, "I think I'll be okay."  
>Slowly James smile widened until it became a laugh and Tom joined in. A few of the other scientist cast strange looks at the father and son, holding knives and laughing.<br>Finally they put their blades away, shook hands and James watched as Tom, backpack and rifle slung across his shoulders, left in search of a lost oasis.

To say that Tom's journey to the North of the capital wasteland was uneventful would be a disservice to the difficulty of his journey… however it was nothing he hadn't faced before, with the exception of a small skirmish in which a handful of raiders, a radscorpion and a rogue protectron all managed to intercept each other and erupt into a bloody battle.  
>He soon found himself crossing through what was undoubtedly once farmland, though the soil would now bear very little, if anything.<br>Using his Pip-Boy with the location on the paper map marked, he made his way through the wasteland until he came upon a large formation of rocky cliffs.  
>Tom looked up at the formations and cliffs and swore to himself. He knew that he wasn't far from the place but there were so many possibilities: it could be on top of the cliffs, it could be in a cave beneath them… it could be anywhere.<br>Tom camped out that night amongst the rocks, hidden away from the wasteland. For a little while it was even kind of pleasant. He slept somewhat soundly.

The next morning Tom rose early to start roving the rocks to try and find some hint of where this place might be. He passed through gullies with radioactive pits, over small buttes that gave an eerie view of the world and through small caverns lined with rock, rock and more rock.  
>By the middle of the day he was frustrated that a drugged up guy was able to find this place without even looking, and yet he, sober and looking for it, couldn't find it.<br>Maybe it wasn't even real. Maybe Three Dog really did just hallucinate the whole thing and the map was just a strange coincidence.  
>And how many coincidences had Tom come across in this eerie criss-crossed world in which he'd found himself wandering?<br>Not many.

The next two days consisted of further search. Tom had taken to scratching trees or boulders with a sharp stone in order to mark where he had searched before. He had almost circled the entire formation twice when one day something caught his eye. He had been sitting up against a tree and taking a refreshing sip of water when he saw it. It was small and was being carried across the ground by a small breeze… and it was green.  
>Tom put the water away and rushed over to it. There was no maybe about it; it was certainly a small green leaf. He looked over at the cliffs directly in front of him, directly behind where the leaf had come from. Tom snatched the leaf up and was surprised by how soft and almost velvety it was. He slowly walked up to the cliff side, passing a tree that he had already marked. He'd been here before, had ruled it out… but that leaf had come from somewhere.<br>Then the cliffs seemed to shift in front of him, but not really. It was his perspective. He got close enough and realised that there was a small opening in the cliff side, so narrow that Tom had completely missed it twice.  
>He rushed over and shuffled in through the opening and found himself on a path that wound up the through the cliffs. Nestled amongst the rocks was a small bright green bush. Tom stepped over to it, his heart pounding and held the leaf up to it. It had come from this bush. Tom leaned in and smelt the bush and his senses were overrun with something they'd never experienced: freshness. In some ways it was the plainest thing he'd ever smelt and in others it was the sweetest.<br>He started up the path, completely forgetting that he was still in the middle of the wasteland; that around every corner could be some new, disfigured monster that wants to kill him in some creative way.  
>The path rose steeply and the greenery increased and soon it was practically flanked by floral life. He could hear something else as well, some kind of whistling. It didn't sound like the kind of whistling a person makes…<br>Then he came upon a wooden gate, flanked by two huge green trees and with two people in strange garment standing in front of it.  
>"Outsider, you have arrived," said one of them, an old man. "Welcome to Oasis."<p> 


	42. Chapter 41

41.

There were just over a dozen people in this small settlement and they were all dressed in strange robes, with branches attached to them, sticking out at odd angles.  
>The man, whom had introduced himself to Tom as Tree Father Birch, led him past the wooden gates and into the grove. It was the most colourful place Tom had ever seen, so green and lush. In the centre was a wooden pavilion with a tree stump in the middle. The whistling Tom had heard earlier was so much louder in here and now he could see where it was coming from: dozens of birds, bright and beautiful were chirping in the trees.<br>"I have something of the utmost importance to speak to you about," Birch said, "But first it seems I've forgotten my manners. It's been such a long time since I've spoken with an outsider: what is your name?"  
>"Tom," he said as he gazed around the place, "What do you mean you have something to tell me? Did you know I was coming?"<br>"_He _told us you would come, and he desires to speak with you. We must move quickly, he doesn't like to be kept waiting. You have no idea how overjoyed I am to see you. Normally outsiders are forbidden inside Oasis, but He has made an exception."  
>"And who exactly is he?"<br>Birch stopped and turned, beaming, to Tom, "_He _is the one who grows. He is the one who gives and he is the one who guides. No one speaks his name out of reverence for his majesty. Thanks to him, the Treeminders have a home."  
>"And <em>He <em>wants to talk to me?" Tom asked.  
>"Yes. As you approached Oasis he said you were coming and I was sent out to meet you personally with a request. He wishes to meet with you. You'd be the first outsider to do so in a long time."<br>"Well I'd love to meet him, he sounds like a great man," Tom said, thinking to himself that the man who achieved this _must _be able to offer some insight to Project Purity.  
>"Yes… man," Birch said, "But first, to meet him, you must undergo the ceremony of purification. Once that's complete you'll be able to speak to him. All you have to do is drink the sap from the basin there," he motioned to the stump that Tom now saw was filled with a viscous brown substance, "The sap will purify your mind and body of anything harmful that could possibly hurt him. It's completely safe."<br>"If you say that it's safe… then I suppose I'm okay to do that."  
>"Wonderful," Birch said, "Take your place in front of the basin and we'll begin."<br>Tom stood in front of the basin, looking down at the brown sap and waited while Birch organised everyone else in the grove in a circle around him. All of a sudden Tom felt very self-conscious.  
>"Whenever you are ready," Birch said, "You may drink."<br>Tom picked up a bowl that sat on the edge of the basin and scooped some of the sap out. It wasn't too thick, but was still very syrupy. He lifted the bowl and tipped the contents down his throat. It was a very wooden taste and not very pleasant and for a moment that was the only sensation.  
>Then all of a sudden the world flashed and his stomach lurched. He fell to his knees and felt his body change… it seemed to be releasing all of its tension, his muscles easing up, his eyelids becoming lighter. Something seized up in his lungs and he began to cough and gag. He watched, his sight still flashing brightly, as he coughed up black ooze and spat it onto the ground. He was horrified by what he could see. As his body expelled whatever toxins it was finding the Treeminders chanted.<br>"I bid you depart, agents of destruction, through the power of His divine will. Leave our homes and bodies immediately. Live no longer in them; pass over into places where you can harm no one. In the name of his frondescence, I call his wrath upon you so that wherever you may go you will bear it with you. And diminishing day to day, you may disappear. Except where you serve the health and good purposes of mankind, may no trace of you be found. All this may He be so good as to grant us new ways to calmly judge the living and the dead and the world by his virtue. Amen"  
>Tom continued to spit the ooze out, "What's happening to me?" he choked out.<br>"Your body is cleansing itself of all the poisons in your body. When it is complete your body will be as pristine within as that of a new born child's. Soon you will pass to sleep and when you awake you will witness His glory first hand."  
>Tom hacked and fell over onto his side, ooze still dribbling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide as the world continued to flash. He wasn't in pain, exactly, but he didn't feel comfortable. Then it all began to go dark and Tom struggled to keep the black away but, it was no use and it soon overcame him.<p>

When Tom's eyes finally opened the light did not hurt, but it was certainly bracing. He sat up and his first thought was, _I have _got _to stop passing out_.  
>He got to his feet and stretched, looking around. He was in a different grove now, with pools of water all around. In the centre was a huge tree that twisted up into the sky. There were several torches around, thought for what reason Tom wasn't sure, as it was still bright day.<br>Tom stepped forward, casting his eyes around for whoever they had been talking about, 'Him'. Finally said loudly, "Hello?"  
>"Glad to see you're finally awake!"<br>Tom jumped as the voice broke out nearby, somewhere ahead of him. It seemed to resonate in the very ground. He stepped closer, looking around. Then he heard the sounds coming from the tree and his slowly moved around to the other side. What he was beyond belief.  
>It looked like a man bent double with one hand on the ground and the other clutched to his side. Its face was twisted, holding its bright yellow eyes open, lidless, and a set of teeth were revealed by what appeared to be a twisted lip.<br>Tom looked up at the thing, the man-tree, and was unable to think of anything to say.  
>Then it's mouth moved as it spoke again, "I can't believe they made you do that stupid ceremony. They listen when I talk but they don't hear… know what I mean?"<br>It… or rather _he _had a very deep rough voice.  
>Tom just kept staring. Finally he blinked and managed to stammer out a sentence, "I'm sorry I… I've just never met a talking tree before."<br>"Neither have I," he rumbled, "well I mean I talk to Herbert, but he never really says anything back. He kept growing around me, maybe for calling him Herbert all the time. His name's really Bob, I think it's funny when I call him Herbert though." The tree-man laughed and then coughed, sounding like a very old, very sick man.  
>"So what's your name then?"<br>"Harold."  
>"So Harold, you're trapped inside, uh, Bob there?"<br>"Well I suppose you could look at it that way. See Bob used to ride around on top of my head, sunk his roots right in there you know. Well eventually he got bigger than me and then I pretty much ended up inside him. It was a long time ago…. I tend to lose track. I was exploring some sort of a military base with some other people… I think it was called Mariposa. We were deep inside and we found some weird vats of this nasty green goo. Right when we were about to leave we got attacked, I think. Last thing I remember before blacking out was something knocking my friend in the stuff."  
>Tom took all this in, but he had no idea where Mariposa was or how long ago this even was. It could've been centuries ago. "How did you know I was coming?"<br>"I'm starting to, if I focus, be able to see all around me… like I'm connected to every leaf on every tree. I saw that you were coming, saw you looking all around the rocks… I thought I saw a good man: a man who can help me?"  
>"And what is it you need?" Tom asked.<br>"Well I had you brought in here to me to ask a simple favour for me… well for us: me and Bob. There's no delicate way to ask so… would you please kill me?"  
>Tom stared up at Harold, almost not believing what he had heard, "You want me to murder you?"<br>"No," Harold reassured him, "Oh no, no, it isn't murder. You'd be doing me a favour. You see I've been stuck here for over two decades now, rooted right into the spot. The only friends I've got are Bob and those weirdos out there who think I'm a God."  
>"And I have a feeling that if I kill their god they won't be too happy."<br>"Oh, don't worry about that. When you're down there I'll have a little chat with Birch and the rest of the gang. They usually don't understand a word I say but I'll make them come round."  
>"Uh… down? Down where?"<br>"How to put this?" Harold muttered, "I've been feeling rather… spread out lately. I think Bob's kind of shoved my insides around some. It's hard to tell where everything is, but it's always that with one's insides isn't it. Anyway I believe Bob's carried some of my organs into his root system. I want you to go underground and destroy my heart."  
>Tom wasn't sure how he felt about this… but then he looked again at this twisted creature and was overwhelmed with pity.<br>"I'll do it."  
>A sigh of relief escaped Harold's throat, "Thank you. The best way that I know of to get into the caves would be an old gate or something in the back of the other grove. I think one of the loonies… Cypress has a key to it."<br>Tom nodded, "Okay… I guess you'll know when I'm down there, won't you?"  
>"I'll be able to sense it, probably," Harold confirmed.<br>"Okay well," Tom was stumped for a moment, unsure of what to say to the man he'd just promised to kill.  
>"I understand," Harold said, "It's a big thing to agree to… you don't have to say anything."<br>Tom nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, moved past Harold and made his way out of the grove.

As Tom stepped into the communal grove he looked around and saw Birch arguing with a woman. He had a feeling it was his wife.  
>"And I'm telling you," the woman said, "You've got it all wrong. Why else would he have called for an outsider's assistance?"<br>"The outsider is here to deliver us from our enemies, Laurel. To keep this place safely locked away from the wasteland, not to exploit us."  
>"How can we preach about peace when all you want to do is keep His gift all to ourselves? That's not what He would want."<br>"If we allow the spread of his miracle to continue, we are putting him in jeopardy. I can't allow that; I won't allow it."  
>Tom couldn't help himself. He walked over to a tee and leaned against it, listening to them.<br>"Once again my husband," Laurel said, "we are at an impasse. I suggest we talk to the outsider."  
>"Agreed. Why else would the outsider have been allowed to enter out grove. Perhaps it's a test. Yes, that's it."<br>Tom quickly started walking away, but Birch spotted him and caught up to him, calling him over.  
>"I know why you're here, Tom, and despite what my wife thinks I know you'll do what's best for Oasis. After all, he chose you, and he would never want to put us in harm's way."<br>"Are you aware that He wants to die, Birch?" Tom asked.  
>Birch nodded, "Yes I've been pondering that riddle myself for some time now and I think I know what he's trying to tell us. The Great One's influence is growing and soon it will break free of the confines of this secluded vale. We can't allow Oasis to call attention to itself like that. It would be the end of Him. If the same sap that purified you could be applied to his heart, it would stop the spread. This is what he means by his words… I am asking you to do this for us. For Him," he pushed a syringe full of the sap into Tom's hands, beaming up at Tom and then shuffled away before Tom could say a thing to sway his resolve.<br>Then before Tom could even put the syringe away Laurel approached him, "I love Birch, but sometimes I think he doesn't see the big picture. The spreading of His influence is not a curse, it's a great miracle. A benefit meant for the entire wasteland."  
>Tom sighed, "Why won't any of you listen to him, to what he actually wants."<br>"Of course we do," Laurel said, taken aback, "He yearns to share his miracles with the whole world, to give the gift of life back to the dead wasteland. It's upsetting him to no end, but Birch can't see the pain it's causing. But now that you're here, I have a feeling the winds are going to change."  
>"You're about to ask me to do something to his heart, aren't you?" Tom asked.<br>"So He has already spoken to you, foreseen the task I would ask of you?"  
>"No he and I talked about something else. This was just a wild guess."<br>Laurel seemed confused by Tom's words, but pressed on, pulling another syringe out, this one full of clear liquid, "The person that created the sap also created this liniment. Put it to His heart and his influence will be increased. Instead of centuries the wasteland will become green in decades. Just imagine how glorious that would be!"  
>Tom was silenced by this notion.<br>"You feel fate tugging at your heart," Laurel smiled, "Rest tonight. Tomorrow morning you may fulfil your task."

He had asked Cypress for the key to the caverns, stating that Harold had asked him to enter them, and Cypress had obliged happily. After feasting with the Treeminders on nuts, berries and a stew made up of what Tom suspected were the birds that sang so sweetly in the trees, he laid on a mattress beneath the stars, along with everyone else, the two syringes and his hunting knife in his pack: three options, two of which would make quite drastic changes.  
>He didn't consider Birch's wish to remain as everything is to be a viable option: after all it was the reason that Harold wanted to die. And of course the original plan, killing Harold, releasing him of his torment, was something that appealed to Tom's sympathies.<br>But spreading the greenery, the life and even the hope that Harold's presence had brought to this small corner of the world was a possibility that seemed incredible to Tom. But was it worth leaving Harold to drift off, possibly into eternity, in order to bring life back to the wasteland?  
>Tom had not made his decision by the time he drifted off. All he knew was that when he woke he would be going into the caves. What he did once he found the heart… that was still up for consideration.<p> 


	43. Chapter 42

42.

Tom woke as the sun only just began to peak over the eastern horizon. Not another soul stirred as he rose with his pack, stepping quietly over the other sleeping bodies. He made his way towards the back of the grove where he found chain link gate blocking access to the tunnel. He used the key to unlock it and then stepped inside. If there had been a slight morning chill outside then the caves were freezing.  
>Tom kept his pistol ready, his ears pricked for the slightest hint of movement. When it got too dark to see Tom switched the Pip-Boy's torch on.<br>As the tunnel started to slope down he was beginning to hear a sound, a deep rhythmic sound… a steady thumping.  
>Harold's Heart.<br>Tom eventually came to a small lake in the caverns, and could see no other way out. Once he'd reserved himself to the fact that he was going to get very cold and very wet he peered down at the water, trying to see where he might need to swim to. He finally decided that he could hear the thumping coming from a point slightly to the left of the middle.  
>Finally he started wading into the water, and the moment it lapped above his waist he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and he breathed in sharply, letting out a little whimper.<br>Finally the water was up to his shoulders and it just occurred to him that maybe the water wouldn't be any good for his weapons, but it was too late to worry about that now.  
>He took a deep breath and plunged under the water, eyes open, searching for a tunnel. He spotted it and swam frantically towards it. After about fifteen seconds his lungs were beginning to get strained and he looked up. He wasn't sure, but it looked like he'd made it to another cavern. He kicked swam upwards, breaking the surface and taking a deep breath. As he crawled shivering out of the water he started to notice that the Geiger counter on the Pip-Boy was ticking.<br>_Great,_ he thought to himself, _a little bit of radiation poisoning to spruce up my day.  
><em>Now that he'd made into the next chamber he could hear the thumping more clearly. It was definitely a heart.  
>After another ten minutes of moving through the cavern the sound was almost deafening and he could see an opening into another chamber up ahead.<br>He stepped into the space and knew that he was directly beneath Harold.  
>Thick brown roots crawled over the walls and hung from the ceiling.<p>

In the centre of the room a several thick roots hung down together and dug into the floor beneath, and wrapped up amongst them was Harold's brown, beating heart.  
>Tom stepped over to it and knew that the time had come… still no decision.<br>He pulled the two syringes and the knife from his pack. He immediately threw the one that would halt Harold's growth aside.  
>Now it was down to two: potentially save the wasteland or end the misery of a lonely sad and very old man.<br>Knife or needle, knife or needle, knife or needle…  
>What it came down to was how he truly felt about it… and so he wrapped his fingers around his choice and plunged it into the heart.<br>At first it quickened and he could feel its throb vibrating through his arm, a sensation that was both macabre and grotesque.  
>Finally Tom pulled the blade from Harold's heart and watched, expecting to see blood pour from the wound. Instead something that looked like a mixture of soil and water seeped out splattered on the floor. The heart began to slow, the sound still echoing off of the walls, until finally it ceased entirely.<br>Tom threw the liniment aside and wiped his blade on his pants before putting it away. The silence seemed to reverberate off of the walls with more strength than the heart beat and Tom was filled with a strange melancholy.  
>He turned and made his way back through the caves, finding the water again and diving in.<br>He swam around, but after ten seconds he hadn't found the other cavern. He began to panic as his lungs started to strain and his pulse thumped in his ears. He floundered around in the water searching for some way out. He ended up heading down and then slowly rising up a slope. He'd been under for twenty seconds now and his vision was starting to blur and his head was starting to hurt. He swam hard, towards a light he could see at the top of the tunnel. He kept going until he hit something. He looked around and found a door in his way, wooden with bars instead of a window. He shouldered against it violently, his lungs feeling as though they were going to burst.  
>Finally he straightened, putting his hands up against the roof of the tunnel and a foot on the floor, bracing himself, and then kicked out hard against the door. It finally came loose and he clawed through the water, bubbles escaping from his mouth as he desperately pulled himself towards the light above, his brain and lungs desperate for fresh air. He didn't know how long he'd been down; all he knew was that he was quickly losing the capacity for any thought or action other than trying to get at the oxygen above.<br>Then he was rushing to the light and he was breaking free of the water, spraying it from his bared teeth, heaving air into his lungs, his eyes wide as his body slowly regained the ability to work properly. He dragged himself to the shore of the pool of water he'd found himself in and lay on his back on the grass.

_Grass?  
><em>He was still in Oasis.  
>After a long few minutes spent regaining his breathing he got to his feet and realised where he was. He was in Harold's grove.<br>Harold stood where he had stood before, only there was stillness to him that unnerved Tom. Birch stood with him and Tom prepared to run if the need be, but Birch seemed wrapped up in his sadness.  
>Tom approached and he saw that while Harold's eyes were still open, there was peacefulness in them, a stillness that in many ways made Tom feel better about what he'd done. He'd put this poor tortured man to rest.<br>After a long moment Birch spoke, "The Great One is dead… slain by your hand."  
>Tom tensed.<br>"Don't worry," Birch said, "I hold no grudge towards you. You'll have to forgive my people at a time like this… they're not used to being so lost. And for once I don't have any words to help them."  
>Tom relaxed, "And here I thought you'd be strangling me right about now."<br>"No, outsider. My anger lies not with you, but with myself. Before you reached his heart, he imparted his last words to me. He told me about his will to die and how I mistook this for some mystical sign. How could I have been so blind, how could I have mislead all those people? Perhaps if I would have spent more time getting to know him things would have turned out different."  
>"There's no way to know that," Tom said, "And for what it's worth I am sorry that it happened this way."<br>"Don't be… he asked you in plain English to help him and you understood what he wanted and you acted accordingly. If I had behaved with as much clarity of mind and determination, who knows how things might have been?"  
>"What will happen to Oasis now?" Tom asked.<p>

"I'm confident we'll be able to keep it alive and carry on as Treeminders," Birch said, "Only now instead of doing it to serve him, we'll do it to serve his memory."  
>"I don't think he'd mind that. I think he'd like for someone to remember him."<p>

Tom's leaving of Oasis was quick and silent. The others hadn't quite risen yet and so Birch walked with him to the entrance and they parted, after Tom vowed that he would never reveal their location. He handed Birch the paper map and deleted Oasis from the Pip-Boy map.  
>Tom made his way out and was soon on a path that ran along a sheer drop, with another cliff wall on the other side. He'd left Oasis an hour ago.<br>Suddenly three men stepped around a corner blocking his path. Tom instantly saw the Talon Company sigil.  
>Tom groaned, "You know I've had a really fucking bad day, and I don't really feel like dealing with you today."<br>"Well that's just too bad." A gun was pressed to Tom's head as the voice spoke behind him.  
>Tom grimaced and lifted his hands slowly, "You know one day you guys are going to realise that if I'm going to die, it won't be at the hands of the Talon Company. You're the third group to come after me."<br>"Third time lucky," the man answered.  
>Tom turned his head slightly. He was about to take a huge chance, "Want to know what happened to the first two?"<br>He heard the man start to speak and spun, grabbing the wrist with the gun, pushing it away with his left hand and throwing a punch with his right. He moved as fast as he could, driving a knee into the man's testicles and ripping the gun from his hand, getting behind him. He held him by the hair of his head, pulling hard, and dug the barrel of the gun against the mercenary's temple. He saw him go for the knife at his leg and jerked his head, "If you touch that knife with more than two fingers your brains are going to end up all over this place."  
>The mercenary froze.<br>"Two fingers and drop chuck it over the ledge."  
>The mercenary did as he was told and Tom heard the knife clatter down the cliff wall.<br>"How did you find me?"  
>"One of our sources told us that they'd seen you enter these cliffs," the mercenary said, "You know we're just going to make you hurt that much more when this is over."<br>"Enough with the threats, I'm not in the mood," Tom muttered. He looked over at the other mercenaries. They'd all drawn their weapons.  
>"Tell them to chuck their weapons over as well," Tom said, "We can get through this with no blood."<br>The mercenary was silent for a long time. Finally he spoke, "Drop them off the edge, boys. Knives and all. Don't try any tricks. We'll just catch up to him later. He won't get far."  
>Tom knew he was right, but he'd just have to cross that bridge when it came.<br>The other mercenaries threw their weapons over, along with the knives. They didn't look happy with the situation.  
>Tom started moving forward, gun still to the leader's head.<br>"You've already screwed up," he muttered to Tom.  
>"Have I?"<br>"You've revealed your play. You're not a killer. Otherwise you would have shot me and them by now. Nothing we could've done about it."  
>"I still might if you don't shut up." Tom muttered.<br>"I don't think so."  
>"Okay listen-"<br>Tom's sentence was cut off the mercenary suddenly threw his head back, driving Tom's fist into his face and tore from his grip. He held onto Tom's wrist and punched him in the face. He tried for the gun while the others ran forward to help. Tom brought the gun around and smacked him across the head. He lifted it to fire, determined to blow his brains out, but he hit his hand aside and charged forward, tackling Tom to the ground. The gun bounced from his hand and over the cliff.  
>He brought his hands up to the merc's head and brought it down hard, breaking his nose. He grabbed him by the neck and threw him off. He rolled away and charged straight at the other mercenaries. They were surprised by his sudden furious attack and hesitated, which was all he needed. He launched himself forward and crashed into them, grabbing hold of one and throwing him into another. The two of them swung their arms as they toppled off the cliff, screaming.<br>The adrenaline pumped through his veins along with rage and a furious drive to survive. He drove himself into the other mercenary, ducking a punch and slamming his fist into his testicles. He then grabbed onto them and twisted as hard as he could. The man screamed and Tom drew back and punched him as hard as he could in the throat. The man fell to his knees, choking and Tom kneed him in the face, breaking another nose.  
>He turned just as the first mercenary, the leader, charged at him. Tom caught him and turned, using his momentum against him. He threw him hard at the other mercenary and they toppled over each other.<br>Tom drew the pistol from his pack, angry at himself for not putting it in his belt before leaving Oasis. He pointed it at the bleeding, puffing mercenaries.  
>The leader smiled, blood staining his teeth, "Thought you weren't a killer?"<br>Tom pulled the trigger and the one he'd punched in the throat jerked and toppled over, the back of his head decimated and a wound just below his eye.  
>The leader's smile disappeared as the gun turned to him. After a moment he spoke, "What's keeping you?"<br>Tom blinked, "I don't think I've ever spoken with a person before killing them… usually it's just drug-crazed raiders… nothing remotely sane." He moved forward, ready to take the shot.  
>"Before you do," the leader said quickly, "What <em>did <em>happen to the other teams?"  
>"First time round, something bigger got in the way. Second time, I <em>put <em>something bigger in the way."  
>"So does this mean you think <em>you're <em>the something bigger now?"  
>"No," Tom said, "Just lucky."<br>He pulled the trigger.

It had been a grand total of seven weeks since he'd left when Tom wearily pushed the door to the Jefferson Memorial Rotunda open and looked up at is father. The building's interior had changed a lot; it was much cleaner and power was coursing through it, a light bulb in every room.  
>James turned and saw his son, worn and a little beaten up at the foot of the stairs.<br>"Tom, you're back! Are you alright?"  
>Tom waved the concern away, "I'm fine: just wearing the wasteland. Can we talk?"<br>They stepped into James' office, sat down and Tom told his father about finding Oasis, and finding the source of it. Then finally he told him about killing the source.  
>"I had so much going on in my mind," Tom muttered, feeling a great weight on his chest, "And I just couldn't figure out what the right thing to do was… so I went with my gut and I… I put Harold out of his misery." He looked up at his father.<br>James' expression was too complex to read. He sighed and then spoke, "You did the right thing. You did what I would have done. No good would have come from making that man suffer, just so we could see some green. You chose the hard road, the good road. I'm proud of you."  
>Tom smiled and a tear ran down his cheek. The weight on his chest was gone, "Thank you," he said quietly.<br>James smiled back, "You made a hard choice and you decided to act on your own morals, not on the expectations of others and what they thought was right. It takes a man of great strength to do that. In my eyes, there was no better alternative. I assume this whole thing stays between us?"  
>Tom nodded, "I might tell Three Dog that I helped someone there… that'll be all he needs or wants to hear. You've had a lot of stuff going on here I see."<br>James nodded, beaming, "We certainly we have and I've been waiting for you to return to push it to the next stage, much to the chagrin of some of my colleagues. But they don't understand what this means to us, so to hell with them."  
>It meant a lot to Tom to hear his father say that… putting their relationship before the advancement of the project. Perhaps this would all turn out alright.<br>"But you look like you need some rest. Take a couple of days off and when you come back we'll get back on track," James said.  
>Tom nodded, "Thanks." He stood up and went to leave.<br>"Tom," his father said.  
>He turned, "Yeah?"<br>"When this is all done, and Project Purity comes to life, you and I are going to have our first drink together."  
>Tom smiled, "I can't wait."<p> 


	44. Chapter 43

43.

Tom woke the day after the next and switched on the radio. Three Dog was speaking, as usual, "_There's been some rumours that Eden's goons are on the move, along with our favourite Colonel. Keep your heads down kiddies because if these guys come-a-knocking, things are gonna get real ugly, real fast._"  
>Tom wasn't entirely sure who Three Dog was on about and decided not to pay it much mind. He was always sounding off strange warnings, the most repetitive and unusual of which was, 'Don't feed the Yao Guai.' Tom had no idea what a Yao Guai was.<br>He dressed and made his way over to Project Purity where everyone was busy doing whatever it was that his father had seen fit to ask them to do.  
>He found his father at the rotunda with Janice Kaplinski, whom was starting to grow on Tom. She was just so excited to be a part of the whole thing and her enthusiasm was quite infectious.<br>"Ah Tom," James said when he saw him, "Perfect timing. I've got some things for you to do. There are a couple of blown fuses down in the basement. If you fix them up you'll be able to boot up the mainframe and then we're pretty much golden." He rummaged in his pockets, "Here are the fuses," he gave Tom instructions on where to go to fix them and then where to find the door to the mainframe, "Have you got all that?"  
>Tom stood silent a moment, processing all the information he'd just been thrown. Finally he blinked and said, "Yes. Yes I do."<br>James laughed, "There'll be an intercom in the room with the mainframe. Contact me with that when you're done."  
>Tom nodded, "Righto. I'll talk to you in ten minutes then I guess."<p>

Soon he was downstairs, opening the doors for the mainframe room. There wasn't anyone down here with him: they were all upstairs working on Project Purity. There was a buzz in the air, the mutual feeling that something spectacular was about to happen.  
>The doors slid open and he stepped in, gazing at the dusty looking computer system, which was huge and silent. He found the switch on its front and flicked it. The machine suddenly hummed to life and lit up red and it began to pulse slightly. Tom moved over to the intercom and pressed the button, "Hey, Dad the mainframe is up."<br>After a moment his father responded, crackly through the speaker, "Alright son there's just one other thing I need you to do. Apparently there's a blockage in one of the pipes. The entrance to it is directly opposite the entrance to the building. Just give me a buzz through the intercom before you go down."  
>Tom nodded, "Alright."<br>He left the basement and walked over to where his father had said the entrance was. It was a grate stuck in the floor with a cold breeze coming up from it.  
>Tom pressed the button on the intercom, "I'm here."<br>"Great, now you just need to activate the manual controls to activate the filter. That should break up the debris enough to clear the blockage. I won't be able to talk to you one you're down there. You'll exit back into the basement and then we'll go from there."  
>"Okay, now what does this thing I'm activating look like?"<br>"You just have to turn a valve. Of all the things you've done, I'm sure this will be the most mundane."  
>"I hear that a lot," Tom said and his father laughed. He entered the pipe.<br>It was a tight fit, with bright light bulbs hanging from the roof. There was a humming noise echoing through the concrete tube. He moved through the pipe as it turned and curved until he came up to a gate. He opened it and it shut itself behind him with a clang. He was now in a section of the pipe that was partly exposed to the outside. He could see through some exposed wiring where the concrete had fallen away a part of the platform that surrounded the Jefferson Memorial.  
>There were some little speakers on the roof and a red valve poking from the wall. Tom turned it and he heard something open. The gate he'd come through locked with a click and the one in front unlocked.<br>Tom was just about to move through the next gate when he suddenly heard a fast rhythmic sound. He looked out through the wiring and saw a strange machine descend from the sky. It had two propellers and its body was curved. Its four wheels came out and the machine landed on the platform.  
>Tom knew in the pit of his stomach that something very wrong was happening.<br>His father's voice was crackling over the speakers, "_Please stay in your assigned areas while we sort this out…_"  
>People dressed in strange looking armour jumped out of the machine. The armour was reminiscent of the Brotherhood of Steel's, only it was far sharper and it was black. There was something sinister about it.<br>"_The Enclave?_" James said, "_What are they doing here? Madison, lock the door!_" Then the speakers crackled off.  
>Tom's heart was pounding. He'd left his pack with all his weapons up at the rotunda. He was completely unarmed but he needed to get to his father. He needed to help them.<br>He went through the other gate and found that the pipe suddenly dropped down vertically. There were some platforms jutting out from the sides and Tom started lowering himself down, using them, until the pipe started running horizontal again. He moved forward, passing through another grate and found himself looking out at the basement. Everything was deathly quiet.  
>He lowered himself down and crept up to the top level of the basement, where the balcony overlooked the filters. As he finally got to the top of the stairs and looked out he saw a single soldier standing with his back to Tom, holding a long very dangerous looking gun. Strapped to his leg was a knife.<br>Tom snuck out from his spot and moved as cautiously and silently as he could. He waited until he was just behind the man, his hand just about to touch the knife before snapping into action. He pulled the knife out, grabbed the man by the shoulder and stabbed the knife through the front of his throat. He dropped his gun and choked, throwing an elbow back which connected with Tom's face. He stepped back, tasting blood and then ran forward and collided with the soldier, throwing him over the railing. He crashed into the water below.

Tom turned in time to have his neck almost broken as another of the soldiers appeared and grabbed him by the neck. Now Tom could see their helmets, shaped a little like the head of wolf with cold yellow eyes. Tom kicked out but it was no use.  
>"What have you done with my father?" he choked out.<br>The Enclave soldier tilted his head curiously, "Who is your father?" a voice said. It was coming from the helmet, apparently being emitted by a speaker.  
>"James Williams."<br>After a moment the soldier dropped Tom onto his feet. He spent a moment gasping for air but he was already being grabbed and dragged forward.  
>The soldier dragged him through the facility and into the rotunda. He pushed him forward where he joined Doctor Li. He didn't know what was going on until he turned and saw that the chamber circling the purifier was sealed off with his father and Janice Kaplinski inside. A couple more Enclave soldiers were in there with them, along with another out on the walkway.<br>There was one other man inside the chamber with them. He was wearing black pants and boots and a long tan trench coat and he stood with his hands behind his back. Tom couldn't see his face as it was turned away from him. He did see his father's though and it was the most serious he'd ever seen. He saw Tom and it became sombre on top of this.  
>Tom's heart sank as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.<br>Then the man spoke, "By the authority of the president, this facility is now under the United States government control. The person in charge is to step forward immediately and turn over all materials related to this project." He spoke with great confidence and resolution, as though what he was asking couldn't possibly be denied, and never would be.  
>His father stepped forward, "That's quite impossible. This is a private project. The Enclave has no authority here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave at once." There was barely concealed fury in James' voice.<br>The man continued as if James had said nothing and simply stepped forward, "Am I to assume sir, that you are in charge?"  
>"Yes I'm responsible for this project."<br>"Then I repeat sir, that you are hereby instructed to immediately hand over all materials related to the purifier."  
>James tried to speak, "I'm sorry but that's-"<br>The man cut him off, "Furthermore… you are to assist Enclave scientists in assuming control of the administration and operation of this facility at once."  
>James face tensed further, "Colonel… it is Colonel, isn't it? Colonel Augustus Autumn?"<br>The man nodded.  
>"I'm sorry, but the facility is not operational. It never has been. I'm afraid you're wasting your time here."<br>"Sir I will decide for myself what is or is not a waste of my time now this is the last time I am going to repeat myself: Stand down at once and turn over control of this facility."  
>"I assure you, Colonel, that this facility will not function," James pleaded, "We've never been able to successfully replicate test results."<p>

Suddenly Autumn pulled a pistol and shot Janice in the stomach. Li let out a sharp cry and James stepped over to Janice, shouting, "NO!" She fell to the ground, clutching at the bloody spot in her abdomen. Blood was starting to drip from her lips.  
>Tom stepped closer to the door, his frown hard and his jaw set. He was feeling things so complex and so powerful that he wasn't sure how to process what was happening.<br>Autumn was speaking again, "I suggest you comply immediately, sir, in order to prevent anymore incidents. Are we clear?"  
>James glared up at Autumn. It was a look Tom had never seen again, and he was sure if the situation were a little more balanced he'd be ripping Autumn apart right now.<br>"Yes, Colonel," he growled, "Do whatever you want. There's no need for more violence."  
>"Then you will immediately hand over all materials related to this project and aid us in making it operational at once," the Colonel said, completely indifferent to the act of brutal and cold violence he just committed.<br>"Very well," James stood up, lying Janice gently down. She was barely breathing now, staring up at him, pleading with her eyes not to let Autumn get what he wanted. James squeezed her hand gently before stepping over to the main terminal connected to the purifier, "Give me a few moments to bring the system online."  
>Autumn waited a grand total of sixty seconds before saying loudly, "Enough of these delays."<br>"It'll only be a few more moments," James said.  
>Tom could hear something in his father's voice… something strange and resigned.<br>Suddenly the purifier blew and the whole platform shook. Sirens started blaring and Tom heard his Geiger counter ticking as a thin smoke started to fill the chamber.  
>Janice was already gone but the Enclave soldiers were collapsing and coughing while Tom saw Autumn inject himself with something before collapsing himself.<br>"DAD!" Tom roared and he slammed his fists on the glass door of the chamber, with little effect. He pounded against it, completely forgetting that high powered weapons were pointed at him while the other Enclave soldiers frantically decided what should be done.  
>James crawled over to the door, his face twisted in pain as his face subtly reddened in shade, the radiation sucking the life from him.<br>Tom watched, his eyes wide as his father heaved himself up to the door and placed his own hand up against Tom's, the glass the only barrier. He held his side, breathing with extreme difficulty.  
>Tom's mind was in overdrive trying to think of a way to save him, to get him out, it was going to be okay he'd find a way they'd be okay.<br>James looked up into his sons' eyes and he spoke, his voice barely getting past the glass, "I love you. Run… run!" Then he slumped over and died an inch away from his son's arms.


	45. Chapter 44

44.

_Catherine? CATHERINE!_

For a moment it had all faded away and Tom felt as though he were floating in an abyss, unable to breathe, see or hear anything else.  
>And then it all came rushing back in one fell swoop.<br>The sirens, the screaming… his father dead up against the glass.  
>The hard col metal of the barrel pressed against his head.<br>He felt numb… no not numb… he was filled with something else, something beyond anything he'd ever felt before.  
>White hot fury.<br>The Enclave soldiers were yelling at each other over Li's cries, trying to decide what the protocol was.  
>"Kill the boy but keep her alive," one of them yelled as he dragged Li back while she let herself become enveloped by anguish.<br>Tom knew what was coming. He could hear the soldier adjusting his grip on the weapon at his head. Suddenly he was moving entirely on instinct. He spun, batting the weapon away with one hand and sent his other elbow into the soldier's throat. He tore the weapon from his grip, grabbed him and threw him at the other soldier as he tossed Li aside and drew his own weapon. They collided and fell rolling down the stairs as Tom advanced and fired the strange weapon in his hands down at them. Some sort of green plasma fired from the weapon and wherever it hit it melted through the armour, hissing and burning. When the soldiers got to the foot of the stairs they were tangled up and dead.  
>Tom threw the weapon aside and saw Li looking over at James. His eyes were closed.<br>"He's gone," Li muttered. She looked over at Tom, "We've got to get out of here. There's an old tunnel that will lead us out of here to someplace safe. We've used it before, but that was a long time ago."  
>Tom gazed at his father… and then he turned, grabbed his pack and looked over at Li, "Lead the way."<br>They left the rotunda, Li muttering, "I hope everyone remembers how to get there. There isn't time to round everyone up."  
>They stepped out into the main room of the building and as they rounded a corner another Enclave soldier advanced on them. Tom didn't waste time. He caught the gun as the soldier lifted it and swung his fist into the helmet. There was a crunch as two of his fingers broke. But the soldier's head rocked back and he crumpled to the ground and they stepped over him without missing a beat.<br>Li led them over to a set of lockers in an alcove. On the ground was a manhole cover that Tom helped, with his unbroken hand, lift and move. Li went down first and Tom followed. He slid the cover back over just as he began to hear more heavy footsteps approach.

When he got to the bottom he found himself in a tunnel with Li and seven others. They were scared and weary and some of them were injured, as though they'd gotten into a struggle along the way.  
>"This tunnel leads to the citadel, the Brotherhood of Steel's fortress," Li said to Tom, "We should be safe there, if we can make it. You're the only one with combat experience, Tom: You have to lead us."<br>Tom nodded, handing his to Li and bringing his rifle into his hands, tucking his knife into his belt. He tossed the shotgun to one of the mechanics, Garza, he thought his name was and they started moving through the tunnel.  
>"Stay close," Tom said.<br>They made their way deeper into the tunnels until they found a large door.  
>"I'll need a minute to unlock it," Li said as she walked over to a terminal next to it.<p>

A door in the wall that opened into another room was open and Tom looked inside and saw Enclave start to enter, some of them on a balcony, others on ground level.  
>Tom opened fire and immediately took one of them out. Garza took cover next to him and they kept the Enclave at bay while Li hacked into the terminal. The sound of gunshots echoed off of the walls and became deafening. They took down four more Enclave before Li was able to unlock the door. It hissed and started to roll apart.<br>"Go!" Tom shouted and the others ran through the door while he rummaged in his bag. He came up with three grenades, pulled the pins from all of them and dropped them on the ground next to the doorway. He ran through the other doorway and Li pressed a button and closed it. Before it slid closed they saw the first few Enclave come through the other doorway and then a huge blast as the three grenades went off, throwing the soldiers all over the place and sending up a huge cloud of dust.  
>They turned and made their way into the new tunnel, which sloped down. They'd taken a few steps before a horrible cry tore through the air.<br>Tom immediately lifted the rifle and popped the ghouls head off as it ran towards them.  
>They moved through further chambers and encountered a few more ghouls and enclave soldiers as they crossed through maintenance tunnels and other train tunnels.<p>

They entered another train tunnel that sloped up and they were making their way up when a ghoul rose up, silhouetted against some light shining through the roof. It growled and hissed as it spotted them. It was much bigger than any other ghouls Tom had seen, and far meaner looking. Tom lifted the rifle and his stomach lurched as he heard a hollow click instead of a gun-shot. He tossed the rifle aside as the ghoul charged, unable to think of another plan. With very little thought he charged at the ghoul itself letting out a war cry of his own, daring the ghoul to follow through with its attack.  
>The others watched in awe and horror as the two met and the ghoul immediately began ripping into Tom's skin. He threw it up against a wall and punched it hard in the face, then sending more into its ribs. It kicked out, pushing him back and leapt at him, grabbing him and throwing him against the wall in its place. He wrapped his fingers around its throat pushing it back and suddenly a pain like no other exploded on his face as the creature brought its hand up and dragged its filthy nails down the side of his face, tearing away flesh and skin, cutting a part of his eyelid away. Tom screamed out as blood soaked into his vision and ran down his throat. He was just barely keeping the ghoul's teeth away from his throat, using all his strength. He pulled the knife from his belt and quickly stuck it through the bottom of the ghoul's mouth and up into its head. It shrieked and struggled and twitched until finally Tom was able to push it away. His whole front was sticky with his and the ghoul's blood and he was barely able to focus through the pain. He stumbled forward and the others caught him and he leaned on Li as they continued through the tunnel into the next room where a Brotherhood soldier stood guard. Li muttered a word to him and they continued on until they found a ladder. Li went first with Tom hauling himself up behind her.<br>Finally he crawled up into the light of the wasteland, hauling himself to his feet and following after Li as she walked over to a huge building with concrete walls, with iron occasionally exposed beneath.  
>They walked over to a huge red iron door, guarded by a handful of Brotherhood soldiers.<br>Tom was barely able to stand as Li approached one of the soldiers, "I am Doctor Madison Li. I have people with me in need of shelter. You must allow us access at once."  
>"I'm sorry ma'am. No unauthorised civilians are allowed inside the citadel. You'll have to leave now."<br>Tom felt another flood of fury and he grabbed the brotherhood soldier and pushed him up against the door. Suddenly there was a lot of shouting and threats as the other soldiers pointed their weapons at him.  
>"Does it look like we'll get very far?!" Tom shouted, blood spitting from his lips.<br>Li was hitting the intercom over all the commotion, "LYONS! I know you can hear me! You open this goddamn door right now!"  
>Another soldier tore her away from the intercom and Garza stepped in and suddenly everyone had a gun pointed at them and Tom was being thrown to the ground.<br>It all ended suddenly when the iron door shuddered, groaned and started to open, lifting off of the ground.  
>An old man, bald but with a bushy white beard, in a long blue coat stepped forward, "Madison, what's going on? Unhand them at once."<br>What followed, Tom didn't see. He stood a moment, realising that he'd saved them, he'd saved the scientists, his father's colleagues, the members of Project Purity… but he was gone.  
>He was gone.<br>Tom fell to his knees and screamed as the emptiness hit him like a comet. He beat his hands on the rocky ground, breaking another couple of fingers, beating his fists as hard as he could, punishing the earth, the world and the universe for taking his father away from him.  
>He let the darkness and the poison flow through his body, the poison of hatred and remorse, mixing together in his heart, shattering it into a million pieces and then leaving them to flow through his veins and cut his entire body from the inside out.<br>His hands shot up to his face and he tore at it, ripping the wounds that were already there further. When it didn't make anything better, when he realised he couldn't feel his face his hands went to his chest and he tore his shirt open and then began to tear at the skin beneath. He was unaware of the hands pulling at him, trying to stop him, to subdue him, to comfort him and when he could no longer pull at his body, when he could no longer burrow into his skin in search of his blackened soul he just let go and hoped that he would die, that he could just escape and it all faded away…

When he woke up three days later he was told that he was in the Citadel clinic and that the Enclave had set up a force field around Project Purity. The Brotherhood were working on ways to counter-attack, but there wasn't much they could do.  
>And then there was the matter of the scars. The doctors had done everything they could to prevent infection and they stitched him up as best they could, but the fact of the matter was that Tom was now permanently disfigured. The whole left side of his face was scarred and ugly and Tom did his best now not to look at any mirrors. He was disgusted and horrified… it reflected who he was inside now.<p>

The day they took the stitches out of Tom's face he found the last of his things, put them away in his pack and left the clinic behind. He went to see Elder Lyons, the old man that had allowed them to enter the Citadel, the leader of the Brotherhood.  
>He found him in his office.<br>"Ah, you're up and about Tom. I've been hoping to speak with you about our-"  
>"I'm leaving," Tom said.<br>Elder Lyons frowned, "Why?"  
>Tom sighed, "This isn't the place for me. I have to get out… I just need to get as far away from… from all of this shit as possible."<br>Lyons looked at Tom with curious eyes, "Together we can take Project Purity back… we can finish your father's work… avenge his death."  
>Tom grimaced, "I'll get that myself, thank you." He turned and left.<br>As he passed through the courtyard of the Citadel he saw Sarah Lyons watching him. He did his best not to look her in the eye.  
>"Tom!"<br>He stopped and turned. Doctor Li was staring at him, shaking her head.  
>"No."<br>Tom looked down at his feet… and then turned his back and walked out of the Citadel, and didn't stop walking…


	46. Epilogue

Epilogue.

He sat at the bar of Moriarty's Saloon and downed a shot of whiskey. His face was scarred and his eyes were dark.  
>He tapped the bar, "Another, Gob."<br>"Kid don't you think you've had enough?" the ghoul murmured.  
>Tom looked up at Gob, glaring.<br>"Here we go," said an annoyed voice.  
>Tom turned his head to look at Jericho, hunched over the bar with his own drink.<br>"Got a problem?" he asked.  
>Jericho looked around at him, "Yeah, actually. You're about to piss and moan about your dead daddy and all the shit you've been through, and I've fucking hear enough. You say you're so angry, then go fucking do something, be a man: otherwise you're just a little bitch in a bar."<br>Tom got to his feet, swaying a little.  
>"Kid, don't," Gob said.<br>Tom ignored him and he walked over to Jericho. "I don't expect you to know pain," Tom slurred, "You're just an old fucking raider. All you ever cared about was stealing, murder and rape."  
>Jericho slowly got to his feet and turned to face Tom, "You wanna keep talking or are you going to walk away with all your teeth tonight."<br>"I'm not afraid of you."  
><em>SMACK.<br>_Jericho slammed Tom's head onto the bar and then tossed him to the ground, "Who the FUCK do you think you are?" he kicked Tom hard in the ribs, "You come here, pissin' and cryin' and just tell the same story every night. How am I supposed to enjoy my drink if some pre-pubescent little shit won't stop crying?" He picked Tom up and threw him over at the wall. He hit it but didn't fall to the ground. As Jericho approached he suddenly let out a cry and punched him in the face, then followed through with a few more to the stomach, but Jericho smacked him away, "You ain't got the know-how to have this whole fuckin' 'I ain't scared of no one' attitude. You think you're some kind of badass? A regulator? Go out and learn to be a man and then come here with your attitude." He picked Tom up by the scruff of the neck and then tossed him out of the saloon. He landed in a heap as Jericho slammed the door shut and he gazed up at the starry sky above Megaton. He was thinking about going back in and pulling his knife on Jericho… but then something he had said echoed in his mind. He pulled himself up, uneasy and now bruised and made his way to Sheriff Simms' home. He knocked unevenly on the door and fought back vomit while he waited. Simms opened the door and not for the first time since Tom's return to Megaton did he look at him with pity.  
>"What's going on kid?"<br>Tom pulled his head up and looked Simms in the eye, "I need to find the Regulators."

To Be Continued…


	47. A Note from the Author

**A note from the author.**

**I just want to take this moment to thank everyone who has read to the end of this story. While it would exist whether you read it or not, your feedback and attention to it has made it that much more worthwhile.  
>Also I would like to thank my friends Rowan and Luke for their feedback on my approach to the story and the changes I made and the changes I didn't. I would also like to thank my brother Logan for the same thing and for giving me detailed advice on what is okay and what is not okay to do with the story.<strong>

I welcome your feedback, your questions and any correspondence you wish to share.

Finally I'd like to say that I hope you all return to read the follow up to this story. Tom has a long journey ahead of him.

So keep an eye out for Fallout: The Regulator.

**UPDATE:  
><strong>The prologue for Fallout: The Regulator is now up, just to give you a taste of the story that you will get and of the character that Tom is becoming on his journey to become the true Lone Wanderer.


	48. Post Script

I'm officially putting Fallout: Regulator and indeed my whole Lone Wanderer saga on hold while I turn to other more personal projects. I'm taking down Fallout: The Regulator but will be leaving Fallout: The Wanderer as it stands.  
>I know the itch one feels when a story goes uncompleted, but at the moment I can't give Regulator the full focus I would like to and therefore cannot serve it properly.<br>I will return to it one day, but for now, farewell.  
>You guys are the greatest reviewers and readers and you're the only reason that I'll be coming back at all.<br>Wish me Luck!


End file.
